Rest in Peace
by Alyssa Blackbourn
Summary: Scott and the gang run across two omegas, brother and sister, on the run from their own family, which is hell-bent on killing them and allowing their human spirits to rest in peace. Will Scott be able to save them, or will he and his pack simply get caught in the crossfire? Please review!
1. Trapped

"Kayla," eighteen-year-old Kayla Holbrook shifted and groaned, reluctant to wake from her slumber. She felt a strong hand shake her shoulder. "Kayla, wake up."

"What?" Kayla snapped grouchily, turning to glare at whoever woke her.

"Easy, Kay," Kayla's twin brother, Logan, chuckled softly from the driver's seat of their car. "We're here."

Kayla rubbed her tired green eyes and pushed her long brown hair out of her face before looking out the car window into the inky blackness of the night.

"We're in the middle of nowhere," she argued, her voice still scratchy from sleep.

"I know," Logan nodded. "The cabin's about a mile up the road; we'll hide the car here, scout the area, and get settled."

"Are you sure no one can link this place back to us?" Kayla asked hesitantly, looking over at her brother with worry in her eyes.

"Positive," Logan told her confidently. "It belongs to some distant relative of ours who won't be back for months; I did my research. No one will ever think to look for us here."

"Good," Kayla's tense shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Come on," Logan opened his door and stepped out of the black sedan that had carried them this far. He had pulled off the road, and tucked the vehicle in between some trees. "Help me cover this thing."

Kayla reached into the back seat and grabbed the two duffle bags and two backpacks that contained all of their worldly possessions, then followed her brother out into the cool spring night. Together, they used branches and leaves to obscure their car from sight. When they were satisfied that it could not be seen from the road, they left their bags beside it and headed back out to the road.

"We'll split up," Logan said with a sigh. "We'll cover more ground that way; circle around the cabin, make sure no one's hanging around there, and we'll meet back here for our stuff."

"Sounds good to me," Kayla said with a sigh, seeming much more awake in the chill of the night. "Be careful, okay?"

"You, too, Kay," Logan smiled at her. Kayla smiled back at him, and her green eyes began to glow bright gold as her vision sharpened, enabling her to see clearly even in the darkness. Her brother's eyes did the same, and the twins took off in opposite directions, dashing through the trees with inhuman speed. Their heightened sense of smell aided their search for potential enemies. They were alert to any sound, any movement, and any smell that they couldn't easily tie to an animal, ready to run for their lives at a moment's notice.

Kayla was starting to let her guard down about three-quarters of the way around the clearing in which their temporary refuge stood. She'd seen nothing to make her suspicious, and she was checking areas that her brother had already cleared, so she didn't see why she should have to be so on edge. Her answer came when she made one single error, a misstep that caused agony to shoot through her. Her foot came down on the trigger of a bear trap, and the steel jaws sprang up to crush her ankle in their grasp. The young girl fell to the ground, and a wolf-like howl of pain, which quickly transformed into the easily-distinguished scream of a girl, tore its way free of her throat. She scrambled back on her knees and turned over onto her back, trying to see the damage. What she saw almost made her throw up. It almost looked as though her foot were about to be severed. She screamed again, as much in horror as in pain.

"Kayla!" the trapped teenager looked over her shoulder when she heard Logan call her name. He dashed into view just as she looked, and when he saw her, Kayla heard his heart skip a beat as tears spilled from her eyes.

"Oh, God," Logan breathed, sprinting over to her, dropping to his knees on the soft pine needles, looking at her leg in horror.

"It's fine," Kayla gasped through clenched teeth. "It's fine. I'll be fine. Just get it off."

Logan looked at her with wide eyes, then nodded shortly and moved over to her bloody and broken ankle. He grabbed each part of the trap and started pulling them apart with all his strength. Kayla screamed again in agony, tilting her head back and squeezing her hands into fists.

"I'm sorry," Logan said quietly. His muscles were shaking from the effort of trying to pull the trap apart; for some reason, it just refused to break. "I'm so sorry...Kayla, shh...You've gotta be quiet..."

After struggling for a few minutes, Logan lost his grip on the blood-slicked metal, and the little progress he'd made disappeared. Kayla screamed again, unable to stop herself, and Logan looked at her with regret and guilt in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said breathlessly. "I'm sorry, it won't break. I can't break it."

"It's okay," Kayla told him after a moment, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. "It's okay; go."

"What?" Logan gawked at her. "No. No, no way. I'm not leaving you."

"Logan, don't argue with—" Kayla began with a growl. She silenced herself when she heard rustling footsteps off deeper in the trees.

"Go," she hissed painfully, her eyes wide. Logan looked at her, then in the direction of the noise, and shook his head, grabbing her shaking hand and squeezing it, his veins turning black as he took away some of her pain.

"Not a chance," he whispered. Kayla shook her head at him, but didn't argue.

After a minute or two of anticipation, a man in his twenties emerged from the trees. He was about six-foot-two, with dark hair and clear hazel-green eyes. He was solidly built, and was not at all dressed for hiking in the woods. His boots probably felt more at home on pavement than pine needles, but that didn't seem to be slowing him down any.

"Stay away from us," Logan warned shakily.

"Take it easy, kid," the man said calmly. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Logan stood up and stepped between his wounded sister and this man who claimed he wouldn't harm them. His eyes lit up like glow sticks, claws grew from his fingertips, and his top and bottom canines sharpening into fangs. He growled viciously as hair grew on his jaw and his ears tapered into points.

"I said, 'stay away from us,'" the teenager snarled threateningly. To his surprise—and slight horror—the man didn't seem at all shocked at his transformation.

"Growl all you want, kid," the man sighed. "But it's doing nothing to help her."

"Why would you want to help us?" Logan challenged.

"Because her foot is stuck in a bear trap," the man said evenly. "And that looks pretty painful to me."

Logan hesitated, trying to decide if they could trust this man, if they could afford to trust this man. Finally, he decided that they had no choice, and he nodded in agreement, retracting his claws back into his fingers. As his appearance returned to normal, the man stepped forward, turning his attention to Kayla. Logan resumed his position beside his sister, holding her hand as she tried to block out the pain. The man took a look at Kayla's trapped leg, and grabbed each half of the trap, pulling on it just as Logan had.

"I already tried that," Logan told him impatiently. He was about to continue when the trap broke away, freeing Kayla's mangled ankle.

"How did you...?" Logan trailed off, too amazed to finish the sentence.

"Well, unlike you two, I have a pack, which gives me strength," the man said with a sigh, standing up and offering Kayla his hand. The teenager took it hesitantly, and accepted Logan and the stranger's help as she got to her feet, immediately shifting all her weight to her good foot.

"I'm Derek," the man introduced himself. "And you are...?"

"Just leaving," Logan interrupted before Kayla could answer.

"You don't have to be so defensive," Derek said with a slight smile. "My pack and I can help you."

"Look, Derek, I appreciate what you did for my sister, but we can take it from here," Logan said firmly. He reached down and took Kayla's feet out from under her, carrying her with ease. Without waiting for a response, he ran off, headed back to the car. When they arrived, Logan put his sister down, letting her lean against the car.

"Why didn't we go with him?" Kayla asked, still shaking and pale. "He's obviously like us; maybe he could have helped us. With a pack, we'd stand a much better chance of living to legal drinking age."

"Kayla, if we can't trust our own family, then we have no business trusting random strangers in the woods," Logan growled. "He could lead them right back to us. If they tracked us to this area and they found him or his pack, it's not like he'd lie for us. We can't trust anyone, Kay. I know you don't want to hear this, but we're on our own. We can't afford to make alliances."

Kayla opened her mouth to argue, then shook her head, knowing it was no use.

"How's the ankle?" Logan asked after a moment.

"It hurts like a bitch," Kayla admitted. "But it'll heal."

"Alright," Logan nodded. "We'll wait here for a bit, until he's gone. Then we'll go to the cabin."

Kayla agreed with a sigh, though she didn't seem entirely happy about it. They waited about ten minutes, then grabbed their bags. With his sister in his arms, Logan walked the mile to the cabin, broke the lock on the door, and walked inside. He gently set the injured werewolf down on the couch in the living room, then went into the kitchen and grabbed some rags to put down under her ankle so she didn't get blood on the couch.

"You get some sleep," Logan said gently. "I'll take the first watch. You should be healed up by morning, so you can take over then."

"Logan, you said it yourself, no one is going to find us here," Kayla said with a yawn. "You've been driving all night; you need some sleep, too."

"The last thing we need is for me to overestimate myself and get us both killed," Logan shrugged. "I'll be fine; go to sleep."

Kayla hesitated, then settled down into the soft couch cushions; in minutes, she had returned to her slumber, though it admittedly was not as sound as it had been previously. Logan smiled at her, then got up and made himself some coffee, trying to prepare for the long night he had in front of him.

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_**Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to review! I have up to chapter 5 waiting if I get a good response.**_


	2. If I Should Die Before I Wake

When Derek Hale woke up from his short and restless three-hour slumber, he knew something wasn't right. His head was pounding like he had three hangovers at the same time, his skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, and his mouth was like cotton. His muscles ached, and when he sat up in his bed, he gasped as pain shot through him like a bullet. His hand was burning, and when he looked down at it, he frowned. The cuts he'd gotten the night before from the bear trap were still visible on his palms and fingers; they should have long-since healed.

Blinking hard in an attempt to clear his cloudy vision, he threw the covers off of himself and stood up. Immediately, his jelly-like legs gave out beneath him, and he knocked over his nightstand as he went down. His cell phone skidded out of reach as his lamp shattered to pieces. Groaning in pain, he rolled over onto his back, breathing heavily as his pale skin glittered in the dawn's first light. He needed to call Scott. Knowing he couldn't stand, he rolled back onto his stomach, and started pulling himself along the floor to where his phone had landed. After what seemed like ages, he finally closed his hand around the device, pulling it closer. With a shaking hand, he unlocked it, and scrolled through his contacts until he found Scott, pressing the call button and praying he answered.

"Derek," Scott sounded drowsy when he spoke, as if he's been woken up. "What is it?"

"Scott," Derek breathed, his throat dry and scratchy. "Scott...I need help..."

"Derek?" The young alpha sounded wide awake now. "What's wrong? Where are you?"

"I'm at the loft," Derek told him. "Bring Deaton. Scott...hurry..."

With these words, Derek felt his mind become overwhelmed, and he surrendered to the darkness that was attempting to claim him. The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was Scott calling his name.

The next thing he knew, Scott and Deaton were shaking him awake. Derek gasped, his chest feeling tight, and coughed slightly.

"Derek, what happened?" Deaton asked as Derek struggled to bring him into focus.

"I...I don't know," Derek admitted drowsily, his words slurring together. "Last night, I...I went out for a walk...ended up by my house...and I heard a girl scream, so I...I went to see what was wrong..." Derek trailed off, his brain demanded he sleep, but Deaton shook him again, not allowing him to close his eyes.

"What did you find?" the veterinarian prompted.

"These kids..." Derek told him. "They couldn't have been older than nineteen...they were wolves, like us, and the girl, she...she had her foot stuck in a...in a bear trap...and her brother...he couldn't get it off, so I helped them break it, and I...I cut my hand on it..."

Deaton grabbed Derek's hand, examining the cuts that refused to heal. He frowned when he saw the residue on the edges of the wounds.

"What?" Scott demanded worriedly. "What? What is it?"

"Wolf's bane, I think," Deaton told him. "I can save him, but you need to find the kids Derek saw. If that trap was covered in wolf's bane, then at the very least, the girl is in serious trouble."

"Just...just follow my scent back into the woods," Derek told his alpha. "You'll find the trap, and then you can get their scents, too."

Scott nodded, then looked between his beta and his emissary before standing up and dashing out the door, leaving Deaton alone with the barely conscious Derek.

Scott raced through the trees on his bike, the engine scaring birds and animals out of his way. He kept smelling the air, trying to stay locked onto Derek's scent, passing the remains of Derek's childhood home and racing onward, knowing that the girl Derek saved couldn't have a lot of time left.

Just as Derek promised, he found the bear trap without difficulty, and since it was covered in blood, he had even less difficulty finding the girl's scent and following it to the cabin. He parked his bike in front of the modest structure, and dashed up to the door, pounding furiously on the solid wood.

"Hello?" he called. "Hello? Is anyone in there?"

When no one answered, Scott feared the worst, and decided he didn't have a choice; he opened the door and walked inside, looking around for signs of distress. He was almost immediately blindsided by a fist making contact with his ribcage, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Before he could recover, he felt his feet leave the floor, and the next thing he knew, he was landing in a heap against the wall.

"I don't know who you are," he heard a boy growl, "but I'm not letting you hurt my sister."

Scott started to turn and look at him, but he wasn't quick enough; the boy grabbed him and threw him again into the opposite wall. Scott growled angrily, losing his patience. He felt his teeth sharpen into fangs as his nails grew into claws. He turned around and gave a short warning roar, his eyes glowing red. The boy looked shocked, and he took a step back, his eyes returning to their normal green color.

"You're not a hunter?" he asked hesitantly, still not ready to let his guard down.

"No," Scott promised, allowing his claws to retract and his teeth and eyes to return to normal. "Look, my name is Scott McCall. Last night, you met my friend Derek."

"Yeah," the boy nodded. "Yeah, he helped us out."

"Well, this morning he woke up poisoned," Scott told him. "My boss thinks that the bear trap was covered with wolf's bane."

"Your boss?" the boy raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Scott nodded. "He's a veterinarian...and my friend...and kind of my emissary...Look, it's a long story, but it's not the point; the point is, your sister's in trouble, and we need to get her to my boss. It's the only way she'll survive."

"How do I know I can trust you?" the boy challenged. "How do I know you won't just kill her as soon as I turn my back?"

"Well, A, I don't have any reason to kill her," Scott pointed out. "B, if I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have knocked on the door, and C, it doesn't really matter because if you don't bring her to my boss, she's going to die anyway."

"Point taken," the boy sighed. He hesitated, looking over at his sister, who was lying on the couch. She looked a lot like Derek had looked; pale, sweaty, gasping, and shaky.

"Okay," he agreed at last, his claws retracting as he went over to his unconscious sister and picked her up. "Let's go."

"Just realized that I did not think this all the way through, so all three of us are going to have to get on my bike," Scott admitted. "It's fine. It'll be fine. Come on."

Scott led them outside, pulling out his phone and calling Deaton.

"Doc, it's me," he said as he climbed onto the front of his bike. The boy put his sister on behind him before finally getting on himself. "I've got them. Am I taking them to the clinic?"

"Yes," Deaton confirmed over the phone. "I'll be there shortly."

"How's Derek?" Scott asked.

"He's going to be fine," the emissary assured him. "I took him to the clinic; he's resting there. I'm just going on a quick supply run."

"Good," Scott sighed. "I gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

"Be careful, Scott," Deaton warned. Scott promised he would, and then he hung up.

"Hold on," he ordered, putting on his helmet.

"Wait," the boy spoke up quickly. "Just take us a mile up the road; we can get my car and I can drive; I'll follow you."

"Oh, perfect," Scott sighed with relief. "Because this is not comfortable seating."

Scott revved the engine and took off down the road. In no time, they'd swapped rides and Scott was racing ahead of the so-far unidentified brother and sister. For a while, it looked like they'd make it with no problems. But just as Scott began to think the words, a gunshot rang out. Startled, the young alpha swerved. Another shot sounded, and a chunk of asphalt sprayed up in front of him. Again, he swerved, but this time, he didn't regain control; his bike skidded off the road, throwing him onto the soft ground. The young alpha grunted in pain, rolling to a stop at the base of a tree. He ripped his helmet off, his eyes turning red as his heart raced. He was just in time to hear another gunshot and see the car swerve off the road as the boy slammed on the brakes, nearly crashing into a tree.

Scott's eyes grew wide, and he ran over to the car, throwing open the driver's side door. The boy had been shot in the shoulder, and he was losing blood quickly. What was even more concerning, however, was the fact that the blood was turning black.

"Oh God," Scott breathed. "Okay, come on."

Scott grabbed the boy and pulled him out of the car, opening the door to the back seat and pushing him inside. The young alpha slammed the door behind him, then got behind the wheel, peeling back out onto the road and racing off, going well over the speed limit in an attempt to make it in time.

"Scott," the boy gasped from the back seat. In the passenger seat, his sister was still unconscious. "Scott, I..."

"Just hold on," Scott ordered, trying not to panic.

"No, I...I need to say this," the boy sounded determined. "If...If we don't make it, I need someone to know who we are. I need for us to have existed at some point in the last four years; it might as well be now."

"You're not going to die," Scott growled, although he wasn't entirely sure. "I'm going to get you to the Doc, and you're going to be fine."

"But if we're not," the boy insisted, "Then I need someone to know, and it looks like that someone is going to be you. My name is Logan Holbrook, and that's my twin sister, Kayla. If we don't..." the boy trailed off, getting dizzy as his blood continued to coat the back of the car, "If we don't make it, I need you to find my parents, Andrew and Rebecca Holbrook, and I need you to tell them that they won."

"What does that mean?" Scott asked hesitantly. It was too late; Logan was losing too much blood, and before he knew it, he was unconscious in the back seat. Scott looked in the rearview mirror at him and clenched his jaw, then stepped harder on the gas, hoping and praying that he would not be too late.

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**_I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter of this story. Don't forget to review! Reviews make me write faster!_**


	3. Omegas

As Kayla clawed her way back to consciousness, the first thing she noticed was the smell. She could smell dogs and cats everywhere. Then she realized that the surface beneath her was cold and hard instead of warm and comfortable, like the couch. Her heart racing, she slowly opened her eyes. When she saw the cold and sterile white walls around her, she sat up quickly, swinging her legs off of the metal table on which she'd been laying. Her ankle had healed completely, so she didn't hesitate to jump down onto the floor, her feet making next to no noise when they made contact with the tiles.

The young omega turned around, looking for a way out. That was when her eyes fell on her brother, unconscious on a metal table like hers, his shirt cut away and his skin bloodstained.

"Oh, God," Kayla breathed, quickly making her way to Logan's side, putting a hand on his chest and trying to shake him awake.

"Logan, wake up," she hissed. "Come on, Logan, please wake up. We've gotta go; come on!"

Logan refused to wake up, but Kayla could hear his heart beating strong, and that was going to have to be good enough for now. She heard someone coming outside the door to her right, and quickly left her brother's side, instead going to stand right beside the doorway, her eyes beginning to glow yellow as her nails sharpened into claws. She waited quietly, her heart pounding against her ribs, until, at last the door opened. The second the approaching person put a foot over the threshold, Kayla grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and threw him up against the wall, against which she had just stood. Immediately, she put her hand on his neck, curling her fingers so that the razor-sharp tips of her claws were positioned over the man's jugular; just a little bit of pressure, and she could rip his throat out.

"Move, and I kill you," Kayla snarled quietly. "Who the hell are you?"

To Kayla's surprise, the man before her did not look afraid. His chocolate eyes showed shock, but not fear. The look on his face definitely spoke to how uncomfortable he felt, but still, there was no fear.

"Kayla," the man said gently, causing Kayla's eyes to widen considerably, "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

"How do you know my name?" Kayla demanded. "Who are you?"

"My name is Doctor Alan Deaton," the man told her. "Among other things, I'm a veterinarian. Your brother brought you to me."

"That's impossible," Kayla applied more pressure to the man's neck. "My brother would never do that. He'd never take the risk. Now who are you, really?"

Before Deaton could repeat himself, the door opened again, and Kayla felt herself get thrown backwards. She landed hard on the tile floor in front of the table on which her brother was resting. The young girl quickly scrambled to her feet, taking up a defensive position in front of her brother as her teeth sharpened into fangs. Across from her, a boy about her age had pushed the vet behind him and was in a position similar to hers, claws extended, teeth bared, and red eyes glowing. Kayla's stomach dropped at the thought of going up against an alpha, but she stood her ground, her sense of self-preservation being overrun by a need to protect her brother.

"Stay away from us," the young omega growled, her eyes wild as she searched for an escape.

"Kayla, we're not going to hurt you," the alpha insisted, though he didn't relax at all. "We saved your life; why would we do that if we wanted you dead?"

"You tell me," Kayla snapped, years and years of running having nearly obliterated her ability to trust anyone apart from Logan. The eighteen-year-old nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Kayla," Kayla immediately recognized her brother's voice, but she didn't turn to look at him, refusing to take her eyes off of the alpha before her. "Kayla, it's okay. We can trust them for now. They saved our lives."

Kayla hesitated, still uncertain, but at last, she relaxed, allowing her claws to retract and her teeth to dull. The alpha across the room mimicked her actions, relaxing as soon as she did. Only after they were both back to normal did Kayla turn and hug her brother tightly. Logan returned her hug, knowing how terrified she must have been to wake up and find him unconscious and covered in blood in a strange place. After a moment, he pulled away and jumped down.

"Kayla, that's Scott McCall," Logan introduced the young alpha. "He's Derek's alpha."

"Derek from last night?" Kayla asked, surprised; she thought they'd seen the last of him.

"Yeah," Logan confirmed.

"Glad to see you're okay," Scott said sincerely. "Deaton wasn't sure you'd both make it for a while."

"What happened?" Kayla demanded, her guard never falling for a moment.

"The trap you stepped in was coated in wolf's bane," Deaton explained. "Derek cut his hand on it when he freed you, and when he woke up, he couldn't even stand. He called Scott, and Scott called me, and when Derek told us what happened, we knew you would be in serious danger, so Scott went to find you."

"I was following Scott in the car, and someone started shooting at us," Logan picked up the story where Deaton left off. "They got Scott to crash his bike, and when he was out of the way, they shot me in the shoulder with a wolf's bane bullet. Scott's the only reason we didn't both die out there."

"Yeah, speaking of that," Scott spoke up, "who was shooting at you?"

Kayla and Logan exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them for a moment or two before Logan turned back to Scott.

"We have no idea," the boy lied convincingly; it was, after all, partially the truth.

"You know, you really shouldn't lie to an alpha," Scott said with a smirk. "I know you're lying. Come on, guys, we're not going to hurt you; we could help. But you have to let us in on the big secret. Who was trying to kill you?"

Again, the twins were silent. Finally, Kayla spoke up.

"It's a really long story..." she said slowly, hoping to deter them from digging further. Her hopes were dashed when Scott simply grabbed a chair and sat down.

"It's winter break," he said with a sigh. "I've got nothing but time."

Logan shifted his feet uncomfortably, folding his arms over his bare chest and looking down, trying to figure out where to begin. When he spoke, his voice betrayed just how tired and weary he'd become.

"Well, I guess the only thing to do is take it from the beginning."

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_**I hope you enjoyed chapter 3! I have a lot more waiting, but I need those reviews, so, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, just shoot me a couple sentences about what you thought about this chapter or the last two. Thanks!**_


	4. Bitten

"You sure you've got everything?" Rebecca Holbrook asked her children.

"Yes, Mom," fourteen-year-old Kayla rolled her eyes. She and her brother were about to join their two friends for a solo camping trip before the first day of high school the following week. "Tent, food, sleeping bags, clothes, cooking utensils, lighter, water bottles, and guns. We have everything."

"You worry too much, Mom," Logan teased as he shouldered his backpack and tucked his .45 behind his back. "It's just a camping trip; we'll be back in a couple days."

"Yeah, and all the werewolves in the area know better than to mess with hunters," Kayla chimed in. "We will be just fine."

"Stop giving your mother a hard time," Andrew Holbrook scolded jokingly. "You'd better get going; Tommy and Ben are probably waiting."

"Bye, sweethearts," Rebecca said as she hugged her children. "Be safe."

"We will," the twins promised.

"Stay sharp," Andrew warned as he hugged them tightly. Again, they promised they would, and then they headed out the door, their stuff on their backs and guns in their waistbands, ready, they believed, for anything that they could possibly face.

That night found them gathered around a campfire, their best friends, Tommy Ryker and Ben Gracen, children from the other two hunting families in Barrington, South Dakota. They'd been friends since they were born, and they were completely inseparable. They told funny stories from their pasts as they roasted hotdogs over the flames of their fire, buzzing with excitement for the coming school year.

"High school is going to be so much fun," Kayla said with a grin, taking her hotdog off the stick and putting it on a bun instead.

"My classes are great," Ben nodded. "I have photography second period and gym eighth."

"If that's not a near-perfect schedule, I don't know what is," Logan laughed.

"Fire's dying," Tommy observed, poking it with the metal stick on which he had been roasting his hotdog.

"My turn for firewood," Kayla sighed, standing up and handing her hotdog off to her brother.

"Eat it and I'll kill you," she warned, grabbing a flashlight from beside the log she was sitting on. Logan held up his hands in surrender, and Kayla chuckled, turning on the flashlight and heading off into the trees.

"You guys going to join any teams?" Logan asked his two friends.

"I'm thinking baseball," Tommy nodded. "Still have to convince my dad, but it looks like it could be fun."

"Good luck with that," Logan chuckled. Mr. Ryker was not an easy man to please, and even harder to sway once he made up his mind.

"Thanks," Tommy sighed, looking a little discouraged. "I am going to need it."

"Well, if anyone can convince him to lighten up, it's you," Ben pointed out, finishing off his can of Coke.

"He's got a point there, Tommy," Logan concurred.

"What about you, Ben?" Tommy changed the subject, the idea of trying to change his father's mind a little daunting for him. "Any plans?"

Ben opened his mouth to say something when he heard an all-too-familiar growl in the trees. Werewolf. All three boys stood up, dropping their food, pulling their guns from behind their backs, and looking around wildly, trying to find the source of the noise. It wasn't a full moon, so if someone was running around as a full-out werewolf, then they had a purpose.

For a moment or two, they heard nothing else apart from the crackle of the dying fire, and they started to relax a little, letting their guard down, starting to think that maybe—just maybe—they'd imagined the sound. It wasn't until they heard Kayla scream that their fears were confirmed.

"Kayla!" Logan cried in horror. He quickly snatched up a flashlight from the ground and turned to his friends. "Go get help!"

Ben and Tommy nodded dutifully and ran off the way they came as Logan turned and ran in the direction of Kayla's scream. He leapt over fallen logs and dodged trees, his mind only focused on finding his sister. His hopes came back to bite him when he at last found his sister lying in the dirt, a bite mark on her shoulder, her eyes closed as a man stood over her, using a handkerchief to wipe blood off of his face.

"Kayla..." Logan breathed, his eyes wide. The man looked up at him and smiled, his teeth still sharp.

"Hello, Logan," he said cheerfully.

"Riley, what have you done?" Logan asked shakily, staring at his sister in horror.

"Well, you see, kiddo, you and your gang of murderers killed one of my pack last week," the man, Riley, said evenly, though his eyes showed his grief and anger. "I can't exactly just go around missing a pack member; it's like missing a limb. So, you take one of mine, and I take one of yours."

"No..." Logan felt tears welling up in his eyes. "No...Do you realize what you just did? Now everyone in all three of our families have to shoot her on sight, rather than let her live like you. If I...if I was any good at this I should have already shot her..."

"But you haven't," Riley pointed out, "which means you won't. My pack and I are leaving town soon anyway; you'll have to chase her."

"They will," Logan looked entirely heartbroken; his other half had just been taken away from him. Even if Kayla survived the bite, she'd be dead within weeks; the families would not give up hunting her. Once someone was bitten, as far as they were concerned, they were no longer who they were before, and letting some creature live on in a loved one's shape was the biggest betrayal one could ever endure. Logan had already seen a couple aunts, uncles, and cousins fall on the family sword after getting bitten. He couldn't bear to see that happen to Kayla. He couldn't let her die alone.

"Well, I should be going," Riley sighed. "Your friends have probably already alerted everyone; Kayla will find her way to me on her own."

The alpha turned and started to leave, but Logan stopped him.

"Wait," he said shakily, causing Riley to turn back and look at him. "Please...please, you can't just...if you take her, then...then you have to take me."

Riley raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised at his request.

"You would give up your whole family, and allow yourself to be hunted for the rest of your life by people you were not ten minutes ago sitting around a fire with, all for your sister?" the idea seemed completely unthinkable—at least in a human—to the twenty-six-year-old alpha.

"Yes," Logan confirmed without hesitation.

Riley seemed surprised and impressed, and he slowly nodded in agreement.

"Alright, then," he said with a slight smile, exposing his long canines, still tinted red with Kayla's blood. He reached out and grabbed Logan's arm as the boy's heart pounded against his ribs.

"Are you sure about this, kid?" the alpha asked, his teeth inches from his skin. "I have never heard someone's heart beat so loudly in my life."

"Just do it," Logan growled impatiently, knowing that his family could be coming any minute.

"Suit yourself," Riley shrugged. Logan couldn't help but look away before Riley sank his teeth deep into his arm, tearing through his muscles and tendons like they were butter. Logan yelped in pain, but it was over quickly; Riley let him go, and Logan pulled his arm close to his body, looking at the death sentence he'd just been given in the form of a bite.

"I'll see you around, kid," Riley grinned, his teeth covered in blood as he once again wiped at his face. "If your family doesn't kill you first. I'll let you take care of your sister; you'll know where to find me when she wakes up."

Logan watched him disappear into the trees, anger and hatred in his eyes along with relief and gratitude. Turning his attention to Kayla, he found that her bite was already healing. Logan sighed, deciding he'd have to wait until she woke up. The boy started pacing in front of her, constantly looking around, alert to any movement, just waiting for his family to come and try to shoot them.

"Logan?" Logan turned when he heard his sister's drowsy voice.

"Hey," the young teenager sounded relieved when he spoke. "How're you feeling?"

"What happened?" Kayla demanded, sitting up, dread in her voice, as if she already knew the answer.

Logan hesitated, unsure if he wanted to tell her. Finally, he decided that he really didn't have a choice.

"You got bit, Kay," he said slowly. "Riley bit you because our parents killed one of his pack last week."

Kayla paled visibly in the light of the half moon overhead. Tears welled up in her eyes as she processed his words and the meaning they carried.

"No..." she denied shakily, a tear escaping the corner of her eye. "No, this wasn't supposed to happen...I was supposed to go to high school and have friends and go to movies and football games...No, no, no, please, this can't happen..."

"Hey, Kayla, take it easy," Logan soothed. "It's going to be okay."

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" Kayla demanded, turning to him accusingly. "Logan, please, I can't take seeing the looks on Mom and Dad's faces. Please, don't wait for them; just kill me now and get it over with."

"No one is dying tonight, especially not you," Logan growled. Then he sighed and held up his arm; the bite mark was about half way healed. "Not on my watch."

Kayla turned white as a sheet at the sight of her brother's wound. Breathing hard, she grabbed his arm and examined it closer, as if trying to prove to herself that it wasn't real.

"What have you done?" Kayla breathed. "What the hell have you done? Now Mom and Dad have to kill both of us! You've destroyed them, Logan! What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that the hell of having to run for my life from my friends and family paled in comparison to the hell of having to live without my sister!" Logan snarled, frustrated. "I can't lose you, Kayla! You're my other half. You're the only one who thinks just like I do. You're the only one in the world who knows exactly what I'm thinking all the time. I know you better than you know yourself, and you know me better than anyone else in the world. I can't lose that. And I'm not going to."

"Logan, when the full moon comes—" Kayla began. Logan quickly cut her off.

"We will worry about that when the time comes," he said definitively. "Right now, we have to run. Come on."

Logan quickly grabbed Kayla's arm and pulled her to her feet, turning and starting to run through the trees, trying to leave as few tracks as possible.

"Where are we going?" she demanded.

"Home," Logan replied. "We'll gather a few supplies, some cash, and...and then we'll go."

"We're never going to see them again, are we?" Kayla asked quietly, hurdling a thick log with ease.

"If we do, it will be right before we die, so, if we're lucky..." Logan trailed off, his chest tightening at the realization that he now considered never seeing his parents again as something lucky, "No. We will never see them again."

* * *

**_Aww, poor twins. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you did, don't forget to leave a review! If not...well, this is awkward..._**


	5. The Trouble with Tommy

"That was four years ago," Logan finished, clearing his throat and shifting on the table he was sitting on. "We've been running ever since. They nearly caught up with us once or twice, but they never got as close as they did last night."

"Why didn't you go with Riley?" Deaton asked. "Why would you willingly become omegas?"

"Because we'd rather die alone than rely on him," Kayla growled. "He's the one that ruined us."

"Yeah, and he wasn't all too happy about us bailing out, either," Logan sighed. "He's made his feelings towards us very, very clear."

"Meaning he hates us," Kayla clarified. "I believe his last words to us were 'If I ever see you brats again, I will slit both of your throats.'"

"Oh," Scott raised his eyebrows. "Wow. That's, um...awesome..."

"Yeah," Logan laughed humorlessly. "Riley's a good guy and all, really, but we just...never saw eye-to-eye."

"Hey, where's Derek?" Kayla spoke up, looking around.

"I sent him home," Deaton told her. "He was doing fine, so I didn't see a reason why he should stick around."

"Has anyone heard from him?" Logan instantly tensed, his heart pounding.

"What?" Scott sensed his uneasiness and stood up, his stomach starting to churn. "What is it?"

"If our family knows we're here, and obviously, they do, and they know that Derek helped us..." Kayla trailed off, unable to complete the thought.

"Then they'll go after him to try and get to us," Logan finished.

Scott didn't need to hear anything else. Immediately, he pulled out his phone and called Derek, just praying he'd answer.

"Scott," Derek answered with a sigh. "What's up? Are those kids awake?"

"Derek, where are you?" Scott demanded.

"Back at the loft," Derek replied, wariness creeping into his voice. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Derek, get out of there," the young alpha ordered. "Get out of there right now. Go hide out with Stiles or Argent or Kira, hell even Peter—I don't care; just get out of there."

"Scott, what is going on?" Derek asked worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"Derek, go!" Scott snapped.

"I'm going!" Derek said defensively, pulling open his loft door. "I just want to know what's going on!"

"Hello, Mr. Hale," Scott heard the voice through the phone as clear as day.

"Shit," Derek breathed. "Scott...I'm gonna have to call you back..."

"Derek, don't you dare hang up this phone!" Scott warned. Out of nowhere, Logan snatched the phone from Scott's hand.

"Derek, listen to me," the boy said evenly, his voice just loud enough to be picked up by the microphone but not loud enough that any human had a chance of overhearing it. "I need you to give the phone to whoever's in front of you. I'll distract them. While I do that, you need to run. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Derek agreed quietly. "Yeah, no problem." There was a pause, and when they heard Derek's voice again, it was much quieter. "It's for you."

Logan held his breath, waiting for whoever it was to speak. When they did, the boy felt his heart clench.

"Hello?" the voice had changed significantly with time, but Logan had no trouble identifying it.

"Tommy," Logan let out a sigh. "I wish to God that I could say it was good to hear your voice, but..."

"Logan," Tommy sounded almost happy when he spoke. "It is good to hear from you. How've you been?"

"Shitty; how do you think?" Logan scoffed. "Where is everybody else?"

"Well, Ben's searching the rest of the town for your werewolf asses," Tommy told him, letting out a breath. "Our respective parents won't be coming. Your parents couldn't bring themselves to watch, and our parents wanted this to be a sort of rite of passage for Ben and me. They sent us as soon as you tripped the bear trap."

"Yeah, that was a great trap," Logan laughed humorlessly. "Very effective. Am I to assume that it was you who shot me earlier?"

"You would be correct," Tommy confirmed. "Couldn't just let you go; you killed my best friend."

"God dammit, Tommy, I _am_ your best friend," Logan growled, frustrated. "That hasn't changed."

"Like hell it hasn't," Tommy snapped. "My best friends died four years ago, and you running around, looking like them, turning into monsters every full moon, just isn't right."

"We have never hurt anyone!" Logan argued. "In four years, in fifty-two full moons, we have never hurt anyone! We can control it, now. We're exactly the same as we were before Riley bit us."

"You're not the same!" Tommy's voice was tight with grief, anger, resentment, and loss. "You are not at all the—hey!"

Logan heard the phone clatter to the floor as he could only assume Derek made a run for it. He heard a couple of shots ring out, and every werewolf in the room held their breath. He heard Tommy grumble a few choice words under his breath before snatching up the phone.

"Very clever, Logan, very clever," Tommy said with a bitter, angry laugh. "Distract me so your little packmate can escape?"

"He's not part of my pack," Logan denied. "We don't have a pack, okay? No one in this town has done anything; you don't have to hurt them."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong," Logan heard the slight waver in Tommy's voice, and he could tell that his friend had tears in his eyes. "If it means finally letting my best friends rest in peace, I'll kill them all."

"Tommy, please!" Logan begged. "This isn't you! You're not a killer! You never were!"

"I'll see you soon, Logan," Tommy growled, his voice hard and laced with pain. "Count on it."

Logan didn't get the chance to say anything else before Tommy hung up. The eighteen-year-old sighed shakily and hung up as well, handing the phone back to Scott.

"Logan," Kayla said gently. Logan didn't say anything, instead turning and slamming his fists down on the table he'd been sitting on, denting the metal surface. Kayla jumped, surprised by his outburst. For a moment, Logan was silent, his hands gripping the edge of the dented table, his head hanging down over his chest.

"You should check on your pack," he said finally, not looking up, his voice quiet. "Make sure Ben didn't find them. Tommy probably has their names and numbers now, since he has Derek's phone, so you should tell them to lay low."

"That's a good idea," Deaton nodded, speaking for the first time in a while. "Scott, why don't you and I go start making calls?"

Scott hesitated, wanting to make sure that his friends were okay, but at the same feeling some need to try and comfort Logan. Finally deciding that the latter was a job much more suited to his sister, he nodded and followed Deaton out to the front room.

"Logan," Kayla's voice was just as gentle as before.

"I knew what he'd think of me," Logan said quietly, his voice shaking. He stood up straight and let go of the table, turning to face his sister with tears in his eyes. "Hell, it's what I thought of all the others we encountered. I knew he'd believe everything he just said to me, I just...I never thought I'd have to hear him say it."

"I know," Kayla nodded in understanding. "Believe me, I know. It wasn't easy for me to hear either. We were all best friends. As naïve as it sounds, I never thought that would ever change. I thought for sure we'd be best friends for our whole lives. You, me, Tommy, and Ben; Barrington's own Feared Four. And I...I don't know, until now that idea refused to die for me, even after we were bit. But hearing Tommy say those things..."

"Crushes the dream a bit, doesn't it?" Logan laughed humorlessly.

"Just a bit, yeah," Kayla blinked back her tears, deciding that it was time for her to grow up and stop holding on to the past. After a moment, she cleared her throat. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," Logan assured her. "Yeah, once the initial shock wears off a bit."

"Good," she said with a slightly forced smile. "Then let's go help clean up our mess."

* * *

Stiles stood in front of his bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth, about to go to bed. He heard a knock on the door downstairs and looked at the clock to his right. It was after eleven; who could possibly be knocking? Scott would have just walked right in, so...

"Dad!" the teenager called, his mouth full of toothpaste foam. "Can you see who's at the door?"

There was no answer, and it wasn't until then that Stiles remembered that he was working late at the station.

"Of course," Stiles mumbled around his toothbrush, spitting into the sink and rinsing off his toothbrush before replacing it in the holder. Wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand, he headed out into the hallway, jogging down the stairs to go get the door. Whoever it was rang the doorbell impatiently.

"Yeah, I'm coming," Stiles said loudly so he could be heard through the door. He rubbed his eyes drowsily, stifling a yawn as he reached for the doorknob. With a sigh, he unlocked the door and pulled it open, leaning against it as he studied his late-night visitor. It was a boy about his age, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes that gleamed in the porch light.

"Hi, is there a Stiles here?" the boy asked.

"Yes, yes there is, in fact he's standing in the doorway at eleven-forty-five wondering why he's not in bed after waking up at three in the morning," Stiles confirmed grouchily.

"I'm sorry, I know it's late," the boy grinned sheepishly. "But, well, it's important. See, you might be able to help me with something that I've been trying to do for years."

"Ahm...okay..." Stiles said slowly. "Look, I don't know what you're selling, but I'm pretty sure it is way past normal operating hours for salespeople, Jehovah's Witnesses, and stripper gr—"

Stiles cut off when the boy jammed a taser into the base of his neck. In a mere couple of seconds, the young Stilinski was unconscious.

As the boy dragged Stiles out of the house and towards a car waiting at the curb, on Stiles's nightstand, his phone lit up and began to vibrate, the caller ID displaying the name "Scott".

* * *

**_Oh boy. Things are about to get interesting for the pack. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to review!_**


	6. Loyalty

"Hey," Stiles heard a faint voice say as he started to wake up. "I think he's starting to come around."

"Good," another voice sighed. "It's about damn time."

"Lighten up, Ben," the first voice scolded. Stiles pried his eyes open, blinking to clear his vision. He sifted slightly in the chair he was sitting in, and immediately started to panic when he realized that his wrists were bound to the chair's armrests. All traces of drowsiness left him as he started struggling against the ropes, looking around wildly.

"Hey, hey, take it easy," the boy who had been the first to speak said with a smile, crouching in front of Stiles's chair. He had dark hair, chocolate eyes, and tan skin that contrasted with his bright smile.

"What the hell?" Stiles demanded, breathing hard.

"Calm down," the dark-haired boy seemed amused by his fear. "We're not going to hurt you."

"Probably," the other boy spoke up. He was the one from his door the night before.

"Ben, just shut up for a bit, okay?" the dark haired boy sighed, frustrated. Then he turned back to Stiles and smiled. "Look, Stiles, we're not here to hurt you. We're just trying to find our friends."

"Oh, so that means you have to kidnap me?" Stiles demanded incredulously. "You couldn't have just, I don't know, _asked_ me?"

"Well, we were in a bit of a rush," the dark haired boy admitted. "And we didn't really want you running before we could check what you told us."

"Running?" Stiles could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Running where? I am a seventeen-year-old high school student with a crappy Jeep and no money. Where would I go?"

"Okay, you can be diplomatic all you want, Tommy, but I'm sick and tired of playing games," the other boy, Ben, growled. "Where's Logan?"

"Where's...?" Stiles looked at him as if he was speaking Urdu. "Who the hell is Logan?"

"Logan!" Ben snapped, as if saying the name louder would help. "You know, about my height, Tommy's hair color, green eyes, grows claws and fangs and goes into a homicidal rage every full moon, possibly the newest member of your pack; ringing any bells, here?"

"Pack?" Stiles gaped at them. "I'm not a werewolf, you guys. I am one hundred percent human. I don't have pack. Okay, well, kinda, but not in the sense you seem to be thinking. God, did you guys do any research?"

"Not really," Tommy admitted with a sigh. "We've been in town for...maybe nineteen hours. We've learned enough to get us a starting point, and you are going to help us get the rest of the pieces. Now, maybe you haven't heard of Logan, but what about Kayla? She's about five-six, long brown hair, green eyes, pretty, little bit of a badass, also has the same affliction as Logan...?"

"No," Stiles shook his head. "Honest to God, I've never heard of the people you're looking for. Can I go home, now? My dad is probably freaking out."

Tommy and Ben both gave twin smirks of amusement.

"Not quite," said Tommy, causing Stiles to sigh and let his head fall back in frustration. "You may not know Logan and Kayla, but I know you know Derek Hale."

Stiles immediately picked up his head in surprise, but remained silent this time, his hands clenching into fists.

"Got him there, Tommy," Ben smiled.

"What do you want with Derek?" Stiles demanded.

"Nothing," Tommy promised. "In fact, I already found Derek earlier. He's a fast one, I'll give him that. He ran off while I was on his phone with Logan. I really don't care at all about Derek, Stiles. All I care about is finding my friends. See, when I ran into Derek earlier, he was on the phone with someone named Scott. That is who I want to find, because he knows where I can find Logan and Kayla. So, tell me, Stiles; do you know where I can find Scott?"

Stiles's heart pounded against his ribcage as he slowly shook his head.

"No," the seventeen-year-old denied. "I don't even know any Scott. I'm sorry; I can't help you."

Ben chuckled softly, then, without warning, punched Stiles solidly across the jaw. Stiles recoiled from the blow, grunting in pain, as Tommy quickly stood up, shoving his friend back.

"Ben!" he shouted warningly. "Back off!"

"He's lying, Tommy!" Ben snarled. "You know he is!"

"Yeah, I do, but punching him in the face is not going to make him want to help us!" Tommy snapped. "What the hell has gotten into you? I've never seen you act like this!"

"Four years, Tommy!" Ben yelled angrily. "It's been four years! For four years, my best friends haven't been able to rest! For four years, they've been trapped in their own little hell! I just want it to be over! I want...I want them to rest."

"I get that, Ben," Tommy said with a sigh. "They were my best friends, too. But right now, the only one who can help us help them is this guy, so I think a general rule should be 'hands off.'"

Ben hesitated, then nodded slowly, and in his chair, Stiles relaxed a little, his jaw still stinging as a bruise started to surface.

"But you," Tommy turned back to Stiles. "The 'hands off' rule is going to disappear pretty quick if you keep lying to us. Ben's right; it's been four years since our two best friends were turned. It's about damn time we let them rest. Now, are you going to help us, or are you going to keep playing dumb?"

Stiles was quiet for a long time, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"Look, you know how Logan and Kayla were apparently your best friends?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Well, Scott is my best friend. So no, I'm not going to help you find him. And it's pointless to keep asking me about it; aren't you hunters always talking about how the instinct for a beta to protect its alpha is too strong to break?"

"I thought you weren't a werewolf," Ben challenged.

"I'm not," Stiles allowed. "But I'm still part of Scott's pack."

"We don't care about Scott, Stiles," Tommy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers and closing his eyes for a moment. "Really, we don't. We aren't going to hurt him. We just want to ask him where we can find Kayla and Logan."

"I'm getting the vibe that you want to kill Kayla and Logan," Stiles stated bluntly. "And if Scott is with them, and he knows you're trying to kill them, there's not a chance in hell he'd tell you anything. And if the 'hands off' rule doesn't apply when _I_ stop helping you, and I'm human, then it must have an even shorter shelf life for Scott, since he's a werewolf."

"Look, Kayla and Logan—_our_ Kayla and Logan—died four years ago," Ben said bitterly. "And now, those _things_ are running around with their faces turning into monsters every full moon; we'll be damned if we let that continue."

"What?" Stiles blinked in shock and confusion. "They turned into werewolves, guys. They didn't die and become high-functioning zombies possessed by demons."

"They're not the same," Tommy shook his head.

"No, you're right," Stiles agreed. "Now they're cooler."

"Now they're killers!" Ben growled.

"Not necessarily," Stiles looked at his captors as if they were insane. "Derek's mom always said that werewolves are predators; they don't have to be killers. Do you have any proof that Kayla or Logan killed anyone? Being a werewolf does not mean that you go around tearing people apart whenever you feel like it—unless your name is Peter Hale and you're an asshole. Hell, look at Scott! He's never killed anyone!"

"He's an alpha," Tommy chuckled. "Of course he's killed before. He had to. Or don't you know how people become alphas?"

"I'm going to say this again, slowly, so you'll get it," Stiles sighed, impatient. "Scott has never killed anyone. Ever. Not even when they deserved it."

"Then how is he an alpha?" Ben challenged.

"Oh, come on," Stiles groaned. "Are you telling me I have to spell it out for you? He's a true alpha. You know, strong character, strong will, all that."

"Those are a myth," Ben waved his hand dismissively.

"Alright, sure," Stiles shook his head. "Whatever you say. Why am I still here? Beacon Hills is not exactly a big place; there can't be very many Scotts around, so you can't need me to find him. Can I please go home now? If I keep disappearing like this, my dad is going to lock me up just so he'll know where I am at all times."

"Well, Stiles," Tommy chuckled, "if there's one thing I know, it's that there are very few instances where traps work without a little bait."

"Guys, come on," Stiles began, trying not to panic again.

"You know what?" Ben seemed to have lost his patience as he turned and grabbed a roll of duct tape from the table behind him. "Time to stop talking."

The older boy quickly tore off a piece of tape and stuck it over Stiles's mouth, effectively silencing him.

"You can be so dramatic sometimes," Tommy shook his head.

"Can we just get this over with?" Ben sighed. "I'll go get the room ready. You keep an eye on him."

"Alright," Tommy agreed, holding up his hands in surrender. Ben turned and walked off, leaving his friend alone with their hostage.

"I'm sorry about him," Tommy said to Stiles. "He's not usually so...aggressive. Don't worry; we won't hurt you, Stiles. We really are just here for Logan and Kayla; as long as your best friend Scott doesn't get in the way, he won't be hurt, either. Like I said, we're not here for you. We're here for Logan and Kayla. You and your 'pack' don't have to get caught in the middle. And while you're right that I don't really need you to find Scott, it would make things go a lot easier for everyone if you just helped us."

Stiles simply glared at him, his eyes conveying the sarcastic comment he could not verbalize.

"Still no?" Tommy raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. "Alright, then." Stiles watched as his captor walked around the metal table behind him and sat down in a waiting chair in front of a laptop, lifting open the screen.

"I guess I'll just have to do it myself."

* * *

**_I hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter! If you did, make sure you let me know in a review. Seriously, guys, all it takes is one person shooting me a couple sentences for me to feel like someone's actually enjoying what I write. So, thanks to those of you who have reviewed and followed and favorited! I'll try not to disappoint!_**

**_Also, DID YOU GUYS SEE THAT PREMIERE LAST NIGHT?! Oh my God. That ending. I won't spoil anything if you haven't seen it, but HOLY CRAP I did NOT see that coming. And I'm totally shipping Stalia now..._**


	7. 2 AM

Chris Argent woke up at two o'clock in the morning to the sound of someone pounding on his door. He'd recently moved to a smaller apartment, and this was the first night since he did so that he'd been able to sleep. It was for this reason that when he opened his eyes he seriously considered taking his gun and shooting his late-night visitor before he dragged himself out of bed and went to answer the door. The second he turned the knob, the door was pushed open and someone darted inside before quickly closing the door behind them. Argent stood against the wall, convinced he was dreaming, as he watched Derek hurriedly lock all three locks on the apartment door: the deadbolt, the drop deadbolt, and the chain. The former alpha was breathing heavily, as if he'd run all the way there.

"Derek," Argent said slowly, not entirely convinced that he wasn't dreaming, his eyesight still foggy with sleep. "What are you doing in my apartment at two in the morning?" The hunter's vision cleared, and he sighed, letting his eyes fall closed before he spoke again, "And why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

"Because I was about to go to sleep," Derek told him, still trying to catch his breath. "And then I had to run."

Argent was quiet for a moment. Then he simply gave a short nod, turned, and half walked, half shuffled back toward his bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Derek demanded, blinking in confusion.

"To get you a shirt and then to go back to bed," Argent called over his shoulder.

"No, Chris," Derek was still on edge as he followed him. "You can't go back to sleep."

"It is two in the morning," Argent sighed, opening his dresser drawer and pulling out the first shirt he saw, handing it to his friend. "I am going back to sleep. You're welcome to the couch. You know where the extra blankets are. Sleep well."

"Chris," Derek rolled his eyes, snatching the shirt from his hand. "We have a major problem. Don't you even want to know why I'm here?"

"Not for at least another three hours!" Argent told him. Derek gave him a look as he pulled the shirt Argent gave him—a simple white t-shirt—over his head. Finally, Argent gave in. "Fine. Why are you here?"

"Because some kid tried to shoot me," Derek explained. "And I need a place to lay low."

"There's no way for me to put this off until morning, is there?" Argent asked wearily.

"No," Derek shook his head.

"Alright," Argent let out a weary sigh. "Have you called Scott yet?"

"No," Derek denied. "I was on the phone with him when the kid showed up at my door and pointed a gun at my face. Logan told me to give the phone to him, and—"

"Logan?" Argent interrupted.

"You've missed a few things," Derek said matter-of-factly.

Argent shook his head, still much too tired for this.

"Okay, well," he said finally, "you should call Scott, let him know you're okay."

"I'm gonna need your phone, then," Derek shrugged, holding out his hand. "The kid has mine."

Argent rolled his eyes, then grabbed his phone from his nightstand and handed it to Derek.

"I'm going to go make some coffee," the hunter said wearily. "You want any?"

"Yeah," Derek nodded, scrolling through Argent's contacts to find Scott. "Thanks."

Argent just nodded and walked off, rubbing his eyes drowsily. Derek brought the phone up to his ear as it began to ring, his heart finally slowing to its normal pace. It took three rings before Scott answered.

"Argent!" the teenager sounded stressed. "I was just about to call you."

"Scott, it's me," Derek corrected.

"Derek!" Scott sounded relieved. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Derek assured him. "Yeah, I'm fine. I ran out off the balcony."

"Onto what?" Scott was struggling to recall ever seeing a way down from that balcony when he was there.

"There was a pipe mounted to the side of the building," Derek explained dismissively. "I climbed down that. Anyway, I'm holed up at Argent's place."

"Good," Scott sounded pleased. "Good...Stay there. I'm thinking I might come join you guys with Logan and Kayla."

"Okay," Derek agreed. "Did you get in touch with everyone else?"

"Well, Lydia's still on vacation," Scott sighed. "Kira's not happy that I woke her up, but she's going to keep an eye out for anyone. Malia's on her way over to Kira's to help her out. My mom's on a shift at the hospital, and the Sheriff's still at the station. You and Argent are apparently okay..."

"What about Stiles?" Derek asked hesitantly. For a moment, Scott was silent.

"I, ah...I haven't been able to get a hold of him," he said at last. "But I'm gonna go by his house right now; I'm sure it's fine. I'm sure he's just asleep and can't hear his phone."

"I hope you're right," Derek said with a sigh. "Is there anything I can do?"

Scott hesitated, thinking for a moment. "Yeah, actually," he confirmed. "I'm going to send Deaton over with Logan and Kayla; can you keep an eye on them? I'll be by soon."

"Yeah, no problem," Derek promised. "It's not like I have anywhere to go; they've probably set a trap at my loft by now."

"Yeah, probably," Scott sighed. "Look, just sit tight, okay? I'll call back soon."

"Okay," Derek agreed. "Watch yourself, Scott; these kids are vicious, and they know how to hurt us."

"I know," Scott said quietly. "I'll talk to you soon."

Scott hung up the phone, and Derek did the same, rubbing his eye wearily as he set Argent's phone down on the dresser. It was then that Argent returned, two steaming cups of coffee in his hand.

"So," the hunter sighed, handing Derek one of the cups and taking a sip from the one he kept. "Are you gonna tell me what's been going on?"

* * *

_**Sorry this one is so much shorter than the others, guys. I had a really busy day and didn't have time to write, but I did want to give you a new chapter, so I did my best. Tomorrow I will try to make the chapter longer. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! If you did, don't forget to give me a couple sentences of a review!**_


	8. Logan, Kayla, Tommy, Ben, and Allison

Scott skidded to a stop on his bike—which he retrieved from the forest after dropping Kayla and Logan at the clinic—outside the Stilinski home and ripped his helmet off of his head, barely remembering to put his kickstand down before he jumped off his bike and dropped his helmet, racing up to the front door.

"Stiles!" he called before bursting through the door. A split second later, he caught an arrow right before it would have pierced his abdomen. His heart racing, Scott slowly let his heart slow the tiniest bit, and his muscles relaxed slightly.

"Stiles!" Scott shouted again, hoping against hope that he was still there. Just as he feared, he got no response. Slowly, Scott followed the arrow's trajectory back to its source, a crossbow mounted to the wall and rigged to fire when someone opened the door. Taped to the bow was a note, which Scott quickly snatched up and read.

_You have something we want, now we have something you want. Care to trade?_

Scott felt his heart drop. It was his worst fears come true. He couldn't handle losing his best friend like this all over again. He couldn't handle it. But, he couldn't just hand over Kayla and Logan to their death, either. He didn't know what to do. After agonizing over his decision for a moment, he decided that he needed to talk to Derek and Argent. They needed a plan. But he knew one thing for sure; he was not going to lose Stiles again.

* * *

"Well, here we are," Doctor Deaton sighed as he pulled up in front Chris Argent's apartment building. Logan and Kayla were in the back seat of his car. "They're in apartment 4C. I'm sorry I can't go up with you; I have a sick Beagle waiting for me back at the clinic."

"We understand," Kayla said with a smile, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening her door. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem," Deaton smiled back at her. "Take care of yourselves."

"We will," Logan promised, mimicking his sister's movements. Once they were both standing on the curb, Deaton drove off, leaving the twins alone in front of the building.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Logan asked his sister. "We could walk away right now. If we run, they'll follow; that could clean up our mess, too. We could leave right now, and it could solve everyone's problems."

"I'm tired of running, Logan," Kayla sighed. "I'm tired of hiding under rocks, always looking over my shoulder, praying that the next time I turn a corner I won't be staring down the barrel of a gun."

"That's how we've survived this long," Logan pointed out.

"Well, what if I don't want to survive anymore?" Kayla challenged, turning to him.

"So, what?" Logan raised an eyebrow. "You're just going to turn yourself over to them?"

"That's not what I mean and you know it," Kayla snapped. "I don't want to just survive anymore, Logan. I want to live."

Logan hesitated. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Okay," he agreed finally. "Alright. Then I promise that, one way or another, you, my dear little sister, will get that wish."

Kayla elbowed him playfully in the ribs. "You're only three minutes older than me," she reminded him as she walked up to the building and opened the door.

"Three minutes, three years; what's the difference?" Logan snickered, following after her as they headed up the stairs to the fourth floor.

"Hey," Kayla stopped him when they made it to the top of the fourth landing. "I need you to promise me something."

"Of course," Logan agreed immediately, looking at her strangely.

"I know that you were thinking about using yourself as bait to get them to leave me alone," Kayla continued. Logan opened his mouth to deny it, but Kayla held up a finger. "No. Don't deny it. I know you better than you know yourself, so you can't lie to me. I need you to promise me that, whatever we decide to do, we do it together, okay? Live together; run together; fight together; die together. Deal?"

A muscle in Logan's jaw twitched; it was obvious that he didn't want to agree. Then, finally, he nodded in agreement.

"Live together; run together; fight together; die together," he repeated. "I promise."

"Good," Kayla smiled, satisfied. "Come on."

Logan followed his sister down the hallway towards apartment 4C, slowly uncrossing his fingers behind his back, his heart breaking in his chest. He quickly shoved the feelings aside as Kayla knocked on the door. The twins saw the peephole darken as someone looked through it, and a moment later, they heard several locks being undone before the door was pulled open, revealing Derek.

"Hi, Derek," Kayla smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about totally blowing you off last night and then getting you almost poisoned to death."

"No problem," Derek shrugged, surprisingly charming in spite of his normal, dark, brooding self. The former alpha stepped aside to let the teenagers in. "Kayla and Logan, right?"

"Yeah," Logan confirmed, stepping inside after his sister.

"Make yourselves at home," Derek sighed. "I have."

Kayla and Logan both laughed slightly, standing side-by-side in the front hall. Argent came in from the kitchen, and when the twins saw him, they froze in their tracks, and Argent did the same. The two omegas paled visibly, staring at Argent in shock and horror. Then, at the same time, they looked at each other, turned, and ran back towards the door. Derek's arms darted out and stopped them, but they still struggled, desperate to get away from the hunter in the kitchen.

"Let us go!" Kayla snarled.

"Stop fighting!" Derek growled, shoving them back, away from the door. Both teens crouched into fighting positions, looking around wildly for some means of escape.

"Kayla?" Argent stared at them in utter disbelief. "Logan? Is that really you?"

"This was your plan the whole time?" Logan rounded on Derek, his claws extended, his eyes glowing, and his teeth sharpened. "Feed us to a hunter to save your own skins?"

"What?" Derek gawked, confused. "Chris, do you know them?"

"Of course he does!" Kayla scoffed. "He's here to kill us, isn't he? Did our parents send you?"

"I..." Argent trailed off, still trying to get over the shock of recognition. "No, I'm...I'm not trying to kill you, I just...is that really you?"

"Look, Kayla, Logan," Derek intervened quickly. "No one here is trying to kill you. I didn't get along too well with Chris either, but he's a friend, really. He's a friend. He's trying to help us defend you; he won't kill you, I swear."

"Yeah, I haven't even unpacked the guns yet," Argent chimed in.

"Seriously?" Derek looked surprised. "I thought that'd be the first thing you unpacked."

"I've only been here for a couple weeks, Derek," Argent shot him a look.

"I know!" Derek nodded. "That's why I'm so surprised!"

Argent rolled his eyes, but didn't respond, instead turning back to Kayla and Logan. "I promise, guys, I'm not trying to kill you. I'm really not. I'm with Scott, okay? When...when did you turn...?"

"Hold on, can someone tell me what's going on?" Derek interrupted.

"We used live in the same neighborhood," Argent sighed. "It was the Argents, the Holbrooks, the Rykers, and the Gracens. We all lived in Barrington, South Dakota. We all had kids in the same year, and they grew up together, at least, for a while. Then we moved out to California, and...I haven't talked to the Holbrooks, Rykers, or Gracens in...gotta be eight years..."

"Right, like we believe that," Kayla scoffed.

"Kayla, if I wanted you dead, you'd be dead," Argent pointed out. "You at least have to remember that about me."

Kayla hesitated; he had a point. Slowly, the twins allowed themselves to relax, retracting their claws and allowing their teeth to dull.

"It's good to see you two," Argent said sincerely. "Do you guys want to tell me what happened?"

Logan opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, someone knocked on the door. Again, Derek went to answer it, and when he opened it, Scott pushed past him, his shoulders tense and his expression full of unease.

"Guys," he said with a sigh, not even noticing the tension in the room. "We have a problem."

* * *

**_Sorry this took so long, guys. I'm super tired and had another busy day, but I'll try my best to keep on top of this. It might be a couple days before the next chapter, but there will be another one. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed! I'm off to bed; I've got a couple dogs waiting for me, so I should get to it. If you enjoyed, don't forget to follow, favorite, and/or write a review (but if you only do one, I hope you write a review. But, hey, that's just me.) Thanks for reading! Goodnight!_**


	9. Failure is Not an Option

Tommy was still hard at work on his computer, tracking down everyone in Derek's pack from information on his phone; he was sticking to the most-called, most-texted few, and then went from there. Occasionally, just to break the silence, he'd talk to Stiles, but the conversations were incredibly one-sided. Still, anything was better than silence.

"Okay," the eighteen-year-old sighed, leaning back in his chair and picking up the notepad he'd been writing on. "So, so far I've got you, Derek Hale, Malia Tate, and Kira Yukimura as part of the pack. I found a couple different Scotts in town, and three Isaacs, but I'm pretty sure that the one we're interested in is Isaac Lahey. I've only got first names on everyone else; Chris, Lydia, Peter, and Cora. How am I doing so far?"

Stiles just shook his head, his words still silenced by the tape on his mouth. Tommy glanced to his right, down the dark hallway where Ben had disappeared, then stood up and walked around the table and removed the tape from Stiles's mouth, sticking one end of it to the side of the table.

"Better?" Tommy asked with a smirk, leaning against the table, folding his arms over his chest.

"Yeah," Stiles admitted. "You know what would be great though? If you freaking untied me!"

"Sorry, but that's not going to happen," Tommy chuckled. "So how am I doing so far?"

Stiles hesitated, looking at him angrily. Then, finally, he gave in and sighed.

"You're wrong about three of them," he told the older boy. "Three of those people aren't a part of our pack. Of those three, everyone hates one of them and I'm not sure why we haven't killed him again yet, and the other two are no longer in the country."

"Killed him again?" Tommy raised an eyebrow.

"It's a long story," Stiles shook his head.

"Look, Stiles," Tommy rubbed his strained eyes. "I just want this to be over. For four years, every day after school and every weekend, I would spend all my time hunting down my best friends—or what was left of them. I want to move on. I want us all to move on. And we can't do that until we get Logan and Kayla."

"I'm not going to help you kill two people," Stiles scoffed, turning his wrists as best he could in an attempt to loosen the knots.

"They're not people, Stiles!" Tommy snapped, causing Stiles to flinch away. Tommy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I wish it could be different. I really do. But it's how it works with our families. I knew as soon as I heard Kayla scream that night that I lost her. Do you have any idea how much that killed me? She..."

Tommy trailed off, looking down at the concrete beneath his shoes.

"You loved her," Stiles realized after a moment. Tommy gave a short laugh, sadness in his eyes.

"Yeah, I did," Tommy confirmed quietly. "Of course, I could never do anything about it; not only was she my best friend, but she was also my other best friend's sister, so it would have been a bad idea on two levels. But yeah. I loved her. Which is why I need to find her. She wouldn't want to live as that monster."

"Well, I don't know, I think the fact that she's been running from you for four years might indicate that she just might want to live," Stiles suggested, his words dripping with sarcasm. "You know, just maybe."

"The Kayla I know would rather die than be one of those things," Tommy growled. Stiles rolled his eyes. At that moment, Tommy's phone started ringing in his pocket. Rubbing his neck wearily, the boy pulled it out and answered it without looking to see who called.

"Hello?" he said with a short yawn.

"You haven't checked in since you arrived," said Kyle Ryker, Tommy's father. Tommy immediately stood up and tensed, a glint of fear in his eyes. The senior Ryker's voice was full of both concern and criticism. "Is everything alright?"

"Dad," Tommy's edginess was clearly heard in his voice. "Yeah, sorry, I...we just got wrapped up in things here..."

"Don't be sorry," Mr. Ryker chuckled. "That means you're actually doing work for once. Have you found them yet?"

"Well, no..." Tommy admitted. "But we're close. Kayla was the one who sprung the trap, and I shot Logan as he was trying to drive away, but..."

"But what?" Mr. Ryker didn't sound happy to say the least.

"They've hooked up with the local pack," Tommy sighed. "The pack saved them both. We tracked down the one that helped Kayla escape last night, but, um...he got away. But we got his phone, and we're tracking down his pack that way. We've already got full names on four of them and first names on the rest. And we have one of the members of the pack here, except, well..."

"I'm human and I would like to go home!" Stiles spoke up loudly so he could be heard.

"Stiles, I swear to God," Tommy snarled. "Shut. Up."

"Tommy, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Mr. Ryker growled. "You can't go around kidnapping humans!"

"Okay, Dad, two things," Tommy said hurriedly, not wanting to have to face his father when he was angry. "One, we didn't know he was human when Ben grabbed him. Second, he _is_ part of the pack. He's even admitted it. He's the alpha's best friend."

"Then why is he still human?" Mr. Ryker challenged.

"I...that's...that's actually a good question," Tommy admitted, pulling the phone away from his ear and turning to Stiles. "Why hasn't Scott turned you yet?"

"Because I don't want it," Stiles replied. "I don't need it. I saw how much trouble it cause Scott, and...I mean, I don't need 'the bite' to be useful. In fact, my being human has worked to our advantage once or twice."

Tommy was quiet, considering his answer, then shrugged in acceptance. "Well, there you have it," he sighed, putting the phone back up to his ear. "Dad, I promise; I won't let them get away again. I won't let you down. We're using Stiles to get to the pack, because the pack is protecting Kayla and Logan. It's going to work."

"It better," Mr. Ryker's voice was undeniably threatening. "Or it's you who's going to have to pay for it. Understand? If this goes south, it's on you."

A muscle in Tommy's jaw twitched as his heart skipped a beat, wondering what punishment his father would think up for this; if he failed, it would be his first official failure. In his family, it didn't _really_ count until you were eighteen, and since his birthday the week before, everything he did counted, and every failure would be dealt with accordingly.

"I understand," Tommy said finally. He could almost hear his smile through the phone.

"Good," Mr. Ryker. "Call me when it's done."

With that, the older man hung up, and Tommy slowly drew the phone away from his ear, shoving it back into his pocket and taking a deep breath to slow his racing heart. Talking to his father always made him nervous.

"Alright," Tommy breathed, pulling the tape from the side of the table and stepping up in front of Stiles. "I'm going to go see what's taking Ben so long. You stay here and try not to cause any trouble, okay?"

Without waiting for an answer, the eighteen-year-old stuck the tape over Stiles's mouth and walked off, leaving the younger boy alone, bound hand-and-foot to the chair in which he sat.

* * *

_**Thanks for waiting for this, guys! I've been pretty busy as of late, trying to organize myself for college in the fall. Speaking of which, I'm leaving for freshman orientation tomorrow, so I probably won't be able to write much for a while. Sorry in advance; the next chapter may take a couple days. Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to favorite/follow/review (I like the last one best)!**_


	10. It's Time to Stop Running

"Are you sure it was them?" Logan asked slowly after Scott finished telling his tale. The sun was beginning to come up over the surrounding buildings, casting golden light into the apartment.

"Who else could it be?" Derek challenged. "They want you in exchange for Stiles."

"I just can't imagine that Ben and Tommy would do that," Kayla shook her head. "To another werewolf, maybe, but a human?"

"Well, even if it _was_ them," Logan sighed, "they won't hurt him. No matter what, they won't hurt him. It's against the code. They wouldn't dare."

"How can you be sure about that?" Scott challenged. "Stiles is my best friend, and I just got him back. I can't handle losing him again."

"Then what are we going to do?" Argent asked, rubbing his brow wearily. "We can't just hand Kayla and Logan over to them! They'd kill them both on sight."

"Yeah," Logan said quietly, looking down at the floor, his arms folded over his chest. "Yeah they will."

Everyone looked at the eighteen-year-old. For a moment, no one spoke, and then Logan raised his head and looked at his sister.

"Kayla, can I talk to you for a second?" he asked. Kayla nodded slowly, and Logan forced a smile at the others. "We'll be right back."

Kayla followed her brother into the kitchen, out of sight. After a moment, Logan turned and faced her.

"We have to turn ourselves in," he told his sister quietly.

"What?" Kayla stared at him in shock, careful to keep her voice down. "Why? Whatever happens, they won't hurt Stiles."

"No, but if we run, they'll come after the pack," Logan pointed out.

"I can't believe that they'd have changed so much that that would be true," Kayla denied.

"Maybe Tommy and Ben wouldn't," Logan allowed, "but Mr. Ryker? The Gracens? Hell, our parents? They would."

"Yeah, they would..." Kayla admitted. "But...we can't just...after everything we've done, after everything we've been through...this can't be it. This can't be all there is."

"We can't run, Kay," Logan said sympathetically. "If we do, they'll die. Scott, Derek, the rest of the pack...every werewolf in this town will be hunted down and killed for helping us. I can't live with that on my conscience; can you?"

"No," Kayla sighed, crossing her arms and shifting her feet. "I just...I don't want to die, Logan..."

"I know," Logan rubbed his weary eyes absently. "Believe me, I know. I don't want to die, either. But I'm tired of running, too. And this is the only way we're ever really going to be able to stop."

Kayla hesitated, staring at the floor. Finally, she nodded. "Okay," she agreed. "Okay. You're right...Let's go tell the others."

"Hey," Logan reached out and stopped her, then pulled her into a tight hug, which she quickly reciprocated. "Thanks for running with me."

"Thanks for not shooting me," Kayla mumbled into his shoulder. Logan chuckled sadly, then finally peeled himself away from her.

"Let's go."

Together, the twins walked back out to the living room, where Scott, Derek, and Argent were talking urgently to each other.

"Guys," Logan spoke up, getting their attention. "We, ah...we've decided to—"

"We know," Derek cut him off. "And it's not happening."

"Okay, one, listening in? Not cool," Kayla snapped. "And two, this is the only way to do this where no one gets hurt."

"Except you," Scott argued. "I'm not sending you off to your deaths."

"You're not," Logan insisted. "It's our decision. If we don't do this, we'll always be running, and we've been running for way too long. We're tired, and we want this to be over."

"We can find another way," Argent jumped in.

"Oh, come on, Mr. Argent," Kayla scoffed. "You know them; you know they'll never give up. And you know that if we run, they'll come after every werewolf in this town. There is no other way."

"Yes, there is," Scott wouldn't let it go; he seemed determined to fight for the two runaways, even if they refused to fight for themselves. "I don't know what it is, but there has to be another way. You're not going to die. Not while I'm still here."

"You don't even know us," Logan growled, frustrated.

"So what?" Scott shot back. "I know you don't deserve to die."

"It's not your decision," Kayla said irritably. "You're not our alpha; you can't stop us. Look, Scott, we appreciate everything you've done for us—you know, saving our lives and all—but we just want to stop running, and this is how it's going to happen."

"We can talk to them," Derek spoke up. "We can try and make them see your side, make them see that you're not the monsters they think you are. We can change them."

"Even if Tommy and Ben let us go, our families wouldn't," Logan shook his head dismissively. "And if the families found out that they let us walk...I don't even want to think about what would happen to them."

"They're right, there," Argent allowed, addressing Scott. "The Holbrooks, Gracens, and Rykers are much stricter than I am in following their code. Letting them go would warrant incredibly harsh punishments; they may even be killed. It's part of the reason we moved out to California; we didn't want Allison to be around that."

"Yeah," Kayla nodded. "Us running would be one thing, but letting us go? Mr. Ryker would shoot Tommy himself."

"Come on," Derek didn't sound convinced. "He wouldn't shoot his own son."

"Actually..." Argent's voice betrayed his doubts. "I never much liked Kyle Ryker. He always took a little too much pleasure in what he did. His own wife was afraid of him sometimes, never mind Tommy. Victoria was always arranging for Tommy and Ben to stay over with Allison, especially after a hunt went bad. Kyle Ryker and Sarah Gracen were the most ruthless people I'd ever met. If not for Kyle's wife and Sarah's husband, I don't even want to know what would have happened to them."

"Wow," Derek mumbled quietly. "Nice friends you've got there."

"Our parents were nice," Kayla offered quietly.

"Yeah," Argent smiled slightly, reminiscing. "Yeah, they were. They were strict, but they were fair. They were Kyle and Sarah's voice of reason, the only two that were just as strong willed as they were who could challenge them."

"But we're not going to be dealing with our parents," Logan spoke up. "Our parents couldn't handle killing us themselves, and as much as Tommy thinks he's in control, I'm sure that at the very least Mr. Ryker is going to show up before long. It's too risky; this is the only way. Look, guys, we're sorry. We appreciate what you've done, but we just want this to be over. No more running."

"Guys, you don't have to do this," Scott implored. "Really, we can find another way."

"We don't want another way," Kayla insisted gently. "We've made our decision. All we need from you is someone to take Stiles back."

The three pack members exchanged glances, knowing that they couldn't change the twins' minds. The only thing they could do was try and help them as best they could. So, hesitantly, they nodded in agreement.

"Fine," Scott allowed at last. "But you're not going alone. I'm bringing my pack. And if I see another way out, I'm taking it, and you have to go with it. Deal?"

Kayla and Logan let out sighs of relief, and nodded before they spoke in unison, "Deal."

* * *

_**Wow. Okay. This took a really long time to post. Sorry, guys. The last 3 days have been nuts. For two of them, I was at orientation all day (IN THE BLISTERING HEAT), and then yesterday I was supposed to get home at 2 PM and ended up getting home at 7 PM. So I was exhausted. And angry. Because I HATE flying. Anyway. I wrote most of this at the airport (My SECOND airport of the day) and finished it up today. I hope you enjoy, and I really hope that you guys leave just a quick review; it would make the hell of the last few days worth it. Thanks for reading! ~Alyssa**_


	11. Moment of Truth

"What is taking so long?" Tommy grumbled, pacing impatiently outside the room into which they had moved Stiles; the younger boy was tied to a chair in the back corner of the concrete storage room of the refinery they had set themselves up in, tape over his mouth and a blindfold over his eyes. Between them and their captive was an eight-inch-thick steel door with a small bulletproof glass window in it. The sun had long-since set, and it had been over eighteen hours since he talked to Logan.

"You know wolves," Ben sighed from his place leaning against the wall beside the door. "They're probably plotting; they'll call soon."

"They better," Tommy laughed nervously. "I can't afford to lose them this time. I'm the one who convinced them to let us go alone; this one's on me."

"Come on, Tommy," Ben shook his head. "That's not true. I'm sure not even my mom would have blamed you if this goes wrong. Kayla and Logan know how we operate; they've always been a step ahead of us."

"Your mom would have blamed _you_," Tommy pointed out. "That's all she did when she was alive. And my dad _will_ blame me. He told me so himself."

"The Holbrooks won't let him do anything to you," Ben tried to assure his friend, pushing away memories of the car accident that had claimed his parents' lives and forced him to move in with the Holbrooks. "They're always able to stop him, just like your mom used to. Just like my dad used to stop my mom. Look, it's not going to go wrong. The alpha is going to call; how can he not? We have his best friend. This place is so beyond booby-trapped that I'm not entirely positive that _we _could get out or in without tripping something. This is going to work; you'll see."

"God, I hope you're right," Tommy breathed, cracking his knuckles nervously.

"I am," Ben insisted. Finally, Derek's phone—gripped tightly in Tommy's hand—rang. Tommy didn't hesitate to answer it, eagerness in his expression.

"Hello?" he answered shortly.

"Where are you?" Logan demanded without greeting his former best friend.

"Ah, Logan," Tommy gave a half smile. "What took you so long?"

"Kayla," Logan sighed. "Trying to convince her to do the right thing."

"Going to give it up, then?" Tommy asked, both surprised and relieved.

"We're tired of running," Logan said dismissively, trying and failing to hide the pain in his voice. "This isn't what I planned. I wanted to make sure that my sister didn't die alone, and I did that. Now it's time to give it up."

"Glad you see it that way," Tommy said sincerely.

"Yeah, whatever," Logan didn't seem to want to talk about their decision anymore, so he cleared his throat. "Where are you?"

"The refinery," Tommy told him. He knew that Logan knew what he was talking about; after all, the building was owned by his parents. "Go through the front door if you don't want to get blown up."

"We'll be there in two hours," Logan promised shortly. Then, before Tommy could say anything else, he hung up, leaving Tommy shaking with relief.

"We've got two hours," Tommy said to his companion. "Better get ready."

* * *

Two hours later, three cars pulled up in front of the old refinery owned by the Holbrook family, located about seventy-five miles outside Beacon Hills, driven by Derek Hale, Chris Argent, and Kira Yukimura. The whole pack—minus Lydia, who was still in New York City, visiting family—had come along; Scott, Argent, Derek, Kira, and Malia.

"Keep your eyes open," Logan warned the pack—which, he decided after learning who and what everyone was, was the most eclectic pack in history—sternly. "They'll probably have traps all over this place. Once you get Stiles, run; I don't think they'll try to kill you once they have us, but I can't say for sure, so it'd be better to just get out as fast as you can."

"Logan," Argent's eyes were sad when he spoke. "You don't have to do this."

"Yeah we do," Kayla said with a sad smile. "It's time we stop running."

Argent sighed, his eyes still full of sadness, but he shook his head and looked away, deciding not to press the issue.

"Let's go," Logan sighed, putting his arm around his sister's shoulders and starting for the front door. Scott and Derek followed on either side of them, with Kira, Malia, and Argent trailing behind, Kira with her katana at the ready and Argent with his gun. Logan and Kayla were the only ones who looked even slightly relaxed.

The seven of them walked into the refinery and found it to be mostly empty; all the machinery was gone, and only a few boxes littered the floor.

"Stiles!" Scott called in a loud whisper. "Stiles, where are you?"

They heard a muffled cry from somewhere to their right, and together, they all went to investigate. They found their friend in a concrete room just off the main area, struggling against the ropes that bound him to the chair in which he was sitting.

"Stiles!" Scott dashed over to his friend, followed closely by Malia and Derek. Logan, Kayla, Argent, and Kira stayed outside, looking around for Tommy and Ben.

Meanwhile, Scott gently peeled the tape off of his friend's mouth and plucked the blindfold off his eyes.

"Scott, you've gotta get out of here!" Stiles said urgently.

"Why?" Scott asked, confusion on his face. In response to his question, the heavy steel door slammed shut and bolted behind them. Through the air vent, sweet-smelling fumes began to leak into the room. Scott recognized the smell—and the tight feeling it gave him in his chest—from when Victoria Argent tried to kill him the year before.

"Wolf's bane," the alpha said urgently. He saw Derek's face and knew he recognized the smell, too. Malia just looked panicked, ripping her nail free of the ropes she had been slicing, freeing Stiles's right hand in the process. "Malia, keep working on Stiles," he ordered, already starting to cough. "Derek, help me!"

Together, alpha and beta ran over to the door, pounding at the metal, trying to find a weak spot.

Outside, Tommy was standing by the storage room door, his gun aimed at the others. Kira raised her katana, trying to focus and not immediately run to Scott's aid. Before she could do anything, however, Ben stepped up behind her and slammed the butt of his gun into the side of her head with all his strength. Kira yelped and collapsed to the ground, unconscious, as her katana fell from her grasp. Scott called her name, but the sound was barely audible through the door. Argent turned, raising his gun, but Ben beat him to it, aiming his weapon at the older hunter's head.

"It's nice to see you again, Mr. Argent," Ben said with a slight laugh and smile. "Now give me your gun."

Argent hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at Tommy, who was also aiming his gun at him. Finally, he let out a sigh and allowed the eighteen-year-old to take his weapon.

"Thanks," Ben tucked the gun behind his back and started walking over to Tommy. "Try anything, and we'll shoot you."

"Guys, what are you doing?" Logan demanded, his eyes full of distress as he looked between the weakening werewolves desperately pounding on the storage door, Kira's crumpled form, and a very angry Chris Argent. "We did what you asked; we came, and we gave up. Why are you doing this to them?"

"Oh, don't worry, Logan," Tommy assured the boy he used to call his best friend. "We'll let them go when we're done. We just didn't trust that they'd let us go through with this without a fight."

Logan still didn't seem sure, but he nodded slowly anyway, and took a half step away from Kayla. Tommy's gun stayed trained on Kayla, while Ben's followed him.

"What are you waiting for, then?" Logan asked, reaching over and grabbing Kayla's shaking hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Let's not put this off any longer. Make it quick, though, okay, guys? I'd rather not feel anything."

Sympathy and sadness crept into both Tommy and Ben's expressions as they nodded wordlessly. The twins gave the two hunters identical half-smiles, Kayla's eyes full of tears, and closed their eyes, unable to watch what was going to happen next. A tear rolled down Kayla's cheek as she clutched her brother's hand with all her strength, and, across the room, Tommy's hands began to shake for the first time in his life. He took a deep breath to calm himself, and tightened his finger around the trigger...

* * *

**_Hope you guys enjoyed! Thanks for reading! If it hasn't already, shit's about to go down. Don't forget to...you know what? It's chapter eleven. Y'all know what I want. Please and thank you!_**


	12. Almost Proud

_**Happy (early) my birthday to you! Hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

After what felt like ages, Tommy finally growled angrily and lowered his gun, turning and running a hand through his hair. Ben also lowered his gun, looking at his friend in confusion.

"Tommy," he hissed, glancing at the twins standing across the room, who were slowly opening their eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I can't do it," Tommy whispered back. "I thought I could do it but I...I just can't..."

"I knew you couldn't," Tommy jerked his head up and turned when he heard his father's angry, disapproving voice. Mr. Ryker strode purposefully into the abandoned refinery, at least a dozen other hunters following him. Some came in the side door behind Chris and grabbed the hunter, restraining him. Logan quickly pulled his sister close, shifting in front of her in an instinctive need to protect her.

"Dad, I—" Tommy began, his eyes wide and fearful.

"Shut up," Kyle Ryker snapped, his eyes burning with contempt. "I always knew you were a worthless little piece of shit. You never could stomach the big stuff. That's why I came out here; after our phone call I wasn't sure you could pull this off. You know, for a minute there, I was almost proud of you. I actually thought you would go through with it. But no; instead, you proved me right."

Tommy opened his mouth to say something, then closed it slowly, shame and regret in his deep brown eyes, his expression like that of a kicked puppy. Ben looked on helplessly, unsure what he could do.

"Good to see you haven't changed, Kyle," Argent spoke up, trying to get the man's attention away from his son.

"Chris!" Ryker grinned at the other hunter as if noticing him for the first time. "Long time, no see. I gotta say, I'm a little surprised at the company you're keeping lately. I always thought you were on the straight and narrow about these _things_; I liked you for that."

"Really?" Argent raised an eyebrow. "Because I always hated you."

Ryker laughed, amused and slightly annoyed by his former ally's comments. "You know, I would love to take the time to just catch up with you, Chris, but I need to discipline my son, so if you don't mind, I'd prefer if you kept your mouth shut."

"Dad, I swear, I didn't mean to..." Tommy said quietly, his shoulders slumped in an unconscious attempt to appear smaller.

"Didn't mean to what?" Ryker growled. "Be the disappointment I always told your mother you'd be?"

"Mr. Ryker," Ben began, jumping to his friend's aid when he saw the wounded look on his face. Ryker wouldn't let him speak.

"One more word out of you and I'll be bringing you back in a body bag," the older man growled at the eighteen-year-old orphan. Ben obediently shut his mouth, taking a step back and dropping his head. Ryker turned his attention back to his son, his eyes blazing with anger. Across the room, Logan and Kayla could hear the boy's heart beating against his ribs, and they could see him shaking with fear. They'd only ever seen him that scared once before, when his mom was visiting family and his dad got drunk; he'd showed up at their door with a black eye and split lip, asking if he could hide out there until morning. The two werewolves took a step back in unison, only to be stopped by two of Ryker's friends. They were trapped.

Meanwhile, inside the storage room, Stiles had at last been freed and was desperately searching for a way to help his dying friends. Scott, Derek, and Malia were all on the cold floor, coughing and struggling to breathe.

"Scott!" he yelled desperately, trying to fight off a panic attack. "Scott, what do I do?"

"You've got...you've gotta get us out..." Scott gasped weakly, his chest tight and his throat burning.

"How am I supposed to do that?" Stiles demanded, his eyes wide.

"Just figure it out, Stiles!" Derek snapped before giving in to another coughing fit.

Stiles looked around, his mind scrambling to try and figure out what to do. Finally, a moment of clarity gave him just the answer he needed. He saw the air vent that the wolf's bane was floating out of at the top of the wall to his right, and got an idea. Scrambling, he grabbed the chair he'd been bound to and pulled it over to the wall under the vent, climbing up into it. He tried to work his fingers into the slots in the grate, but it was too small.

"I can't get it," he growled angrily, looking over his shoulder at his three friends. "I can't..." the teenager trailed off when he saw them all lying motionless on the rough concrete floor.

"Guys?" Stiles's voice was shaking when he spoke. None of them stirred, but he could see that, at least, Scott was still breathing, if only barely. Stiles turned back to the grate, grit his teeth, and jammed his fingers through the grate, scraping his skin and bloodying his fingers, until he could finally grip the metal firmly. Blocking out the pain, the teen pulled hard on the metal cover, once, twice, three times, until it finally came away in his hands. Stiles let out a sigh of relief, placing the grate on the seat of the chair and stepping on it before pulling his fingers back out, biting his tongue to keep from crying out. He found the source of the deadly gas—a vaporizer—placed way back in the vent, and quickly reached for it. His bloodied fingers brushed against the plastic, but he couldn't grab it. Desperation welled up inside him, and he climbed up onto the arm of the chair, launching himself up for just a moment or two, allowing him to reach further into the vent and at last grab the device.

"Yes!" Stiles cried in victory, quickly plucking the wolf's bane from its place in the machine, thus eliminating the source of the gas. Throwing both the vaporizer and wolf's bane aside, he quickly turned his attention to his friends, first going to Scott. He rolled his best friend over onto his back and shook him urgently.

"Scott!" the desperation in his voice was clear when he spoke. "Scott, wake up!"

After what felt like ages, Scott at last opened his eyes, coughing and gasping. Stiles felt weak with relief. Scott looked around, taking in the sight of the bloody grate, Stiles's mangled fingers, and the broken vaporizer in the corner. It didn't take long for him to figure out what happened.

"Scott, are you okay?" Stiles asked hesitantly.

"I'm fine," the young alpha wheezed. "Go get Malia; I've got Derek."

Stiles nodded and quickly went to Malia, trying desperately to wake her, as Scott dragged himself over to Derek's side.

"Derek," he said with a cough. Derek didn't stir, his body completely still. Scott's weakened heart picked up the pace as he shook his friend with what little strength remained to him as Malia came to across the room. "Derek!" he shouted as best he could. "Derek!"

* * *

_**Oh, no, what have I done? Well, nothing yet, really...Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, please don't forget to review! But I doubt you will because nobody loves me *sarcastic sobbing and eating of ice cream*. Lol, just kidding. Seriously though, if you could leave a review, follow, or favorite, I would appreciate it. Thanks for reading! ~Alyssa**_


	13. Riley

**_I'm back in business, baby! :D_**

* * *

Logan glanced around furtively, trying to figure a way for them all to get out. Unfortunately, every plan he formed in his head was always shot down by the fact that Scott, Stiles, Malia, and Derek were trapped in that storeroom. In the end, he decided that the best thing he could do was to do what he came there to do. Taking a deep breath, he took half a step forward, causing his sister and the hunters behind him to stiffen visibly. Before Mr. Ryker could say anything else to Tommy, the young werewolf spoke up.

"Mr. Ryker," Logan was surprised at how sure he sounded, considering he wasn't at all sure about what he was about to do. Mr. Ryker also looked surprised when he turned and looked at the boy he'd watched grow up alongside his son. "Look, we came here because we're sick of running, okay? We're not going to fight. You don't have to blame Tommy, and you don't have to go after the pack. They haven't done anything wrong. Just let them go and you can have us. We just want this to be over. Please, just let them go."

"You know, Logan, I'd love to, but, well, the pack helped hide you," Ryker said with sarcastic regret in his voice. "They helped save you. That makes them guilty in my book."

"It's not like they knew who they were!" Argent protested, starting to fight against the two hunters restraining him.

"It doesn't matter," Ryker shrugged dismissively. "They're werewolves. They're monsters. I'm not in the business of sparing monsters. But since my son is too weak to do it himself, I'd be more than happy to end this for you."

With these words, Ryker pulled out his gun, taking aim at Logan's skull. Before he could stop himself, Tommy found himself speaking up.

"Dad, wait," he said quickly, ready to defend the two wolves he used to call his friends. Ryker, however, wasn't having any of it. In one fluid motion, the older man lowered his weapon, turned, grabbed his son by the arm, wrenched his gun from his hand, and yanked him forward before shoving him in the direction of the two long-time runaways. Tommy stumbled, but maintained his footing, turning to face his father with wide eyes as the man raised his gun an aimed it at him.

"You stupid little brat," Ryker growled. "You were actually going to defend these monsters?"

"How can you do that?" Tommy demanded, his eyes full of disbelief. "They were my friends only four years ago! You treated Logan more like your son than you did me! How can you look at them and just not care?"

"Because the Logan and Kayla I knew and loved are dead," Ryker snapped. "I thought I taught you that! I took it easy on you when you were a kid, and look where you are now. I suppose this is partly my fault, and I'm sorry for that. But if you can't handle this, then how are you going to handle the hard stuff?"

"Dad," Tommy's voice shook even in the one word. "Dad, please..."

"Kyle, what are you doing?" Argent demanded, horror in his eyes. His horror only grew when he realized that none of the hunters Ryker had brought with him seemed to be doing anything to stop what was happening; they didn't even look concerned. Ryker ignored Argent's outrage, keeping his cold gaze on Tommy.

"Sorry, kiddo," Ryker shrugged. "But you just proved that you're a danger to everyone."

Tommy's eyes grew wide, and he took a small step back as his father tightened his finger around the trigger. Logan and Ben looked on, stunned into silence, but not Kayla. Adrenaline flooded the young omega's veins, desperation in her eyes.

"No!" she shouted without thinking, charging forward, bumping her brother's shoulder in the process and jostling him from his state of shock.

"Kayla!" he cried in horror, watching as she darted over to Tommy and skidded to a stop in front of him, shielding him just as Ryker pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed in the nearly-empty refinery, and for several seconds, there was nothing but silence. Kayla just stood there in front of Tommy, a few strands of her hair falling in her eyes. At first, she didn't feel anything. Then, after what felt like an eternity, a faint shooting pain caused her to look down and see a spot of dark red blood blooming in the center of her abdomen. With a shaking hand, she reached up and covered the injury, and this seemed to remind her brain of the wound; she could suddenly feel it in its entirety. The intense pain made her legs give out under her; the only thing that stopped her from collapsing was Tommy, catching her and gently lowering her to the ground.

"Kayla, no!" Logan started over to her, but the two hunters behind him reached out and grabbed his arms, stopping him in his tracks.

"Kayla," Tommy breathed quietly, holding his old crush in his arms and gently sweeping her hair out of her face. "Come on, Kayla, stay with me...God, why would you do that...?"

"I couldn't let you die," Kayla gasped, trying to put pressure on her injury as blood gushed through her fingers. Her blood was turning black, and the wound refused to heal.

"Well," Ryker sighed indifferently. "That wasn't really what I had in mind, but it'll do. Just one more, and we can all go home. I'll take care of you later, Tommy."

With these words, Ryker turned and aimed at Logan as the boy continued to fight to get to his sister's side, desperate tears leaking from his eyes.

"Kyle, don't!" Argent shouted angrily. Again, he was ignored.

Ryker was just about to pull the trigger when they heard the sound of glass cracking overhead. Logan stopped struggling, slowly looking up at the skylight over their heads. Ryker followed his gaze, and was just in time to see the skylight shatter, sending glass raining down on them. Tommy leaned over Kayla, shielding her, as everyone turned and covered their heads and necks. Amid the sound of shattering class—not only from the skylight but also the windows, they realized—they heard the sound of boots hitting the ground. Logan turned back towards Ryker and saw a familiar figure positioned between him and the bloodthirsty hunter across the room. He stood at about six-foot-two, had blonde hair, and was clad in a black leather jacket, jeans, and black work boots. Even from behind, Logan recognized him.

"Riley?" the teenage breathed, shock in his eyes.

"What are you waiting for?" Riley asked over his shoulder as the front doors burst open and Riley's pack walked in. "Run!"

Logan didn't have to be told twice. He shook off the two dumbstruck hunters barely gripping his arms and expertly knocked them out before they could retaliate. In the amount of time it took him to do that, the place had turned into a madhouse, with the blindsided hunters frantically fighting off Riley's pack. Logan didn't hesitate to run over to where Tommy was still holding a barely-conscious Kayla. He bent down to pick her up, but Tommy gently pushed him back.

"I've got her," he said quickly, slipping one arm under her legs and standing up, lifting her off the floor. Logan hesitated, unsure if he could trust the boy he used to call his best friend.

"I've got her," Tommy repeated insistently. "Go help the others; I'll get her out of here. I'll be waiting in my car outside."

Logan was again quiet for a moment or two before nodding slowly, but he reached out and grabbed Tommy's arm before he could leave anyway.

"If you're not there when I get there," he snarled threateningly, his eyes flaring yellow, "if you take her or kill her or let her die, then I swear to God, I will kill you."

Tommy gulped nervously, feeling chills shoot down his spine, and nodded earnestly in understanding. Then Logan turned and joined in the fray and Tommy dashed out the front doors, disappearing from sight.

Logan ran over to Argent, who was fighting against the hunters who had been holding him. The young wolf felt his heart race with adrenaline as he shifted completely, his teeth and nails sharpening, his ears tapering to a point, and hair growing from his jawline. He grabbed the nearest hunter and threw him across the room, forcing him to release his hold on the older hunter. Argent had no trouble dispatching the other one, and then they both turned their attention to the storeroom. Two of Riley's pack were already over there, trying to open the door and fight off the swarm of hunters at the same time.

"Go," Logan ordered. "I've got Kira."

Argent nodded in agreement, running over to the struggling wolves and quickly coming to their aid, disarming one of the hunters and fighting alongside the very things he used to hunt. Meanwhile, Logan grabbed Kira's katana, and then Kira herself, and quickly ran outside in an attempt to get the kitsune to safety.

Back inside, Argent had at last helped the wolves clear enough of the hunters away from the storeroom door that one of them, a young woman of about twenty-one with long, fiery red hair, her real eye color indistinguishable behind the glowing golden irises, was able to release the lock and yank the heavy door open wide. The remaining wolf's bane tumbled out into the main room, and the wolves around them started coughing.

"Alright, let's go," the red-haired woman said urgently once she got ahold of herself. "Come on; everybody out!"

Stiles quickly got to work, helping first Malia out to another werewolf before pulling Scott to his feet. Derek was still unconscious—and barely breathing—on the ground, and Scott tried to pull him up, but he was still very weak, and nearly fell over. The red-haired woman steadied him and started helping him outside.

"No," Scott refused, trying to go back. "Not without Derek..."

"We've got him, Scott," Argent promised, helping Stiles pull Derek's limp form up, wrapping the former alpha's arms around their shoulders. "Go, go, go!"

The werewolves began retreating, returning to their vehicles waiting outside. Logan was waiting beside Tommy's car with Kira, and quickly loaded her inside her car when Stiles opened the door. They put Malia in the passenger seat and Stiles got behind the wheel. Meanwhile, Argent put Derek in the back seat of his car and Scott was gently helped into the passenger seat of Derek's car, with Logan behind the wheel. Then Riley's pack piled into their four SUV's and, with Argent leading the charge, they tore off, leaving the hunters—all of whom had run out after them and were shooting at them as they fled—far behind them.

* * *

**_I'm BACK! Thank you for being patient, guys. I really appreciate it. I still have no word on whether or not I can get ANYTHING from my old hard drive, so keep your fingers crossed for me. Anyway, I've got a new laptop so I'm back in business. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and don't forget to follow, favorite, and/or review (please review; I like hearing from you guys. It makes me feel good). See you next time! ~Alyssa_**


	14. Ancient History

Logan stood outside the animal clinic, his hands shaking at his sides. His sister was inside, being treated by Doctor Deaton while Derek was being looked at by Marin Morrell, Deaton's sister. Scott, Malia, Kira, and a few of Riley's pack were being looked at by Riley's emissary, Evan, and it looked as though they were all going to be fine, but neither Kayla nor Derek seemed like they were going to make it.

As Logan stood there, trying desperately to calm himself down, knowing that he was just half a step away from turning, Riley suddenly burst through the back door of the clinic, looking around wildly. When he saw Logan, he relaxed.

"Thank God," the now thirty-year-old alpha let out a sigh of relief. "I thought you ran off or something."

At the sight of him, Logan lost it. His eyes flared yellow, and in a split second, he'd turned, his teeth and nails sharpening to deadly points as he launched himself at Riley, grabbing the alpha and throwing him into the brick wall of the clinic. The werewolf's body made a small divot in the stone, and Logan pinned him there, fury in his golden eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here, Riley?" Logan snarled. "You said you never wanted to see us again. You said that if you ever _did_ see us, you'd kill us. So what the hell are you doing here?"

Riley was not in the mood for Logan's outbursts, and, with his eyes glowing red, he grabbed Logan's arms and forced him to release his hold on him. Logan whimpered, fighting against him with no success.

"Teenagers," Riley scoffed. "What is it with you? I just saved your life, if you didn't notice; the least you could do is say 'thank you'. You don't seem to remember who you should be angry at, kid. I'm not the one who tried to kill you."

"This time," Logan conceded with a growl. "If you want to call yourself a savior, then tell me where the hell you were when my sister was getting shot! If you were going to come, you should have done it sooner! You should have either saved us both, or let him kill us both. But no. You let her get shot. I...I let her get shot...And now, she's probably going to die, and I'm going to have to keep going without her. I was going to push her out of the way. When Tommy and Ben were getting ready to shoot us, I took her hand. I was going to push her out of the way. I already talked to Scott and the others about it; they were going to take her and run."

"Look, kid," Riley pushed him back gently and released him, blinking his eyes back to their normal brown color. "I'm sorry I didn't get to Kayla in time; we were busy slashing all of your old buddies' tires to they couldn't follow us once we got you out."

"What are you doing here, Riley?" Logan asked wearily, his eyes, teeth, and claws going back to normal as hopelessness crept into his voice.

"I've been keeping tabs on you," Riley admitted, folding his arms and shifting his feet.

Logan scoffed, finding the idea hilarious. "Why?"

"Look, Logan, what I did to Kayla that night..." guilt crept into the alpha's eyes, and he cleared his throat before he continued. "It was wrong. I was grieving, and I wanted revenge, and...and when I heard about your camping trip, I...Anyway, the next day, I realized what I'd done to you when your father came to my door and begged me to let him see you."

"What?" Logan gawked at him, disbelief in his expression.

"Yeah," Riley nodded. "I told him I didn't know what he was talking about. He was so incredibly drunk that even if I wasn't a werewolf the smell of his breath would have made me sick. Apparently, he'd already been to the other alphas in the area, and none of them had turned you, so that just left me. He wanted to see you and Kayla. I'd already accepted that you weren't coming back, so I told him that you weren't there and I didn't know what he was talking about. But he insisted. Finally, I gave in and told him you ran. I've never seen a grown man break down as far as your father did right then. Hunter or not, I couldn't help but feel bad for him. He started yelling at me, telling me that I'd killed his children and now I wouldn't let him hug you both one last time before the full moon...I started to realize what I'd done..."

"Good to know you get it," Logan scoffed, shaking his head. "You ruined our lives."

"Yes, and I really do get that now," Riley insisted. "Anyway, I called your dad a cab home, and then my pack and I headed out. We started tracking you and your sister down, keeping tabs on you."

"Yeah, right," Logan laughed bitterly. "And where were you all the other times we were cornered?"

"We were there!" Riley growled, frustrated. "Who do you think triggered the alarm in Tucson so you could escape? Or who threw the flashbulbs in Dallas? Or tipped off the cops in Denver? We've been with you the whole time."

"You told us that if you ever saw us again you'd slit our throats," Logan snapped. About a month after they turned, he and Kayla had tried to make living with Riley and his pack work, deciding that there were clear advantages to having a pack. It only lasted a week and a half.

"I know what I said!" Riley shot back, losing his patience. "I wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind when I said that. Your little team of assassins had just killed my little brother because he was protecting you! I needed someone to blame, and you were right there. It was only after you were gone that I realized I only had myself to blame. So I picked up your trail again. I've been back on your trail since Detroit. The only reason I didn't make contact was because you'd both made it very clear that you wanted nothing to do with us anymore."

Logan blinked in surprise. They'd been in Detroit for only two days, only about half a week after they'd left Riley and his pack.

"Look, Logan, I'm sorry that I didn't get to Kayla in time," Riley said sincerely. "But you really should not be just standing out in the open like this right now."

"Well, I can't be in there," Logan's voice shook, and tears threatened to gather behind his eyes. "Not when Kayla...Not while she..."

"She's going to be fine," Riley said dismissively. "She's stubborn. Just like the rest of your family. The Holbrook resilience is infamous among werewolves and hunters alike."

"Yeah, well, stubbornness only goes so far when you get shot with a wolf's bane bullet," Logan said quietly, looking down, a sullen expression on his face.

Riley let out a sigh, then took a step forward, reached out, and clapped a hand down on Logan's shoulder.

"Come on, Kiddo," the older wolf said gently, "we can't hide out here forever."

Logan nodded slowly, and allowed Riley to lead him back inside the animal clinic.

* * *

Logan was sitting in the clinic's lobby, his arms resting on his knees, his head hanging over his chest. It had been about two hours since Riley had coaxed him back inside, and now the alpha and his pack were getting checked into a local hotel for the night. Tommy was in the back, trying to get ahold of Ben, but it appeared as though the other boy was ignoring his calls. Most of Scott's pack was still there, except for Kira and Malia, both of whom had angry parents to contend with when they got home. Scott, Stiles, and Argent were in the back with Derek, who was doing better and would likely regain consciousness soon. Kayla, on the other hand, wasn't doing as well. Deaton and Morrell had done all they could; the rest was on Kayla.

"Logan," the young omega looked up when he heard Deaton speak up. The veterinarian was standing in the doorway to the back room, and to Logan's relief, he was smiling.

"Kayla's waking up," Deaton told him. Logan didn't need to hear anything else; he was on his feet in an instant and, as soon as Deaton opened the mountain ash gate, darting into the back room, past the still-unconscious Derek and his pack and finally coming to a stop beside Kayla. His twin sister was shifting on the metal table, her eyes fluttering as she struggled to regain consciousness. When she finally did, she smiled at the sight of her brother.

"Hey," Logan said with a relieved smile.

"Hey," Kayla smiled back. "What happened?"

"You're an idiot; that's what happened," Logan laughed. "Never do that again, understand?"

"I couldn't let Tommy die," Kayla argued, her memories slowly returning. "He would have done the same for us."

"Really?" Logan raised an eyebrow. "Last I remember, he was trying to kill us. Hell, he shot me."

"Don't hold grudges, Logan," Kayla scolded, hesitantly sitting up, wincing at her still-healing wound. "That's ancient history."

"That was two days ago!" Logan argued incredulously.

"Good to see you're feeling better," Scott said with a smile.

"Yeah," Kayla smiled back. "It'll take more than that to kill me. Not much more, but more, nevertheless."

Scott, Stiles, Argent, and Logan all laughed. At that moment, Tommy came in from the dogs' kennel.

"Ben's not answering," he sighed hopelessly. "I've called him at least ten times, I've left messages...I...I'm starting to think he's in trouble."

"I'm sure he's fine," Argent said dismissively. "Your dad's not mad at him, remember?"

"Yeah, I know, but if I'm not there, then he might be..." Tommy said worriedly.

Before anyone could respond, they heard the bell on the front door ring as it opened.

"Funny," Deaton frowned. "I could swear I switched the sign to 'closed'..."

Logan and Kayla immediately tensed, exchanging paranoid glances, but Deaton didn't seem concerned. He simply walked back into the front room, leaving the others behind him.

"Can I help you?" the veterinarian asked the man standing with his back to the counter, reading a 'Lost Dog' flyer on the bulletin board. The man turned to him, and Deaton saw the same jaw line, eye shape, and hair color as Tommy. There was no doubt in the vet's mind that this was Kyle Ryker.

"I hope so," Ryker said with a pleasant smile. "I'm looking for someone, and I think you could help me find them."

"Well, I'd love to help you, but as the sign says, we're closed," Deaton gestured to the sign on the clinic door. "And we won't be open for another four hours."

"Okay, I'll come back later," Ryker conceded with a smile. "But, I'm looking for my son, you see," he took a photo of Tommy out of his wallet and handed it to him, "he ran off, and I'm really worried about him. I said some things that I didn't mean, and...Just, if he comes in, can you tell him that Ben and I are looking for him?"

"Sure," Deaton agreed, handing the photo back. Ryker nodded at him, then turned and headed for the door.

"If you don't mind me asking," Deaton spoke up, stopping the man before he could leave. "Why did you come here? This is an animal clinic, after all; you might be better off going to the police."

"Under normal circumstances, I would do that," Ryker acknowledged. "But these aren't normal circumstances. So if you could tell the alpha Scott McCall to give me back my son, I'd appreciate it. You have a nice day, now."

With these words, Ryker left the clinic, leaving the stunned Doctor Deaton in his wake.

* * *

_**I hope this super long chapter makes up for my extended absence. Sorry I've been a little absent, guys. Gearing up for college. Thank you for your patience and understanding, thank you for reading, and as always, don't forget to review. Love you guys! ~Alyssa**_


	15. Not Always a Monster

"Thanks for letting us stay here, Scott," Kayla said sincerely as she put her bags—which had been retrieved from the cabin where she left them—down in the alpha's guest room. "While Mr. Ryker's still around, I feel a lot better with an alpha I trust around."

"Yeah, we really appreciate it," Logan chimed in, putting his own bags down beside his sister's. "And thanks for letting Tommy sleep on the couch."

"It's no problem," Scott said honestly. "Derek and Argent are going to be standing watch in the kitchen, and I'm down the hall if you need anything."

"How's Stiles?" Kayla asked, concerned.

"He's fine," Scott assured her. "His fingers are pretty scraped up, and the Sheriff will probably be standing guard outside his room with a shotgun all night, but he'll be fine."

"Good," Logan sighed. "I really hate that we got you guys involved in out mess."

"You didn't get us involved," Scott argued. "We chose to get involved."

Logan opened his mouth to argue further, but then thought better of it, instead smiling in gratitude.

"Alright," Scott said after a moment. "I'm going to go to bed. Call if you need anything."

"Will do," Kayla and Logan promised in unison. Scott smiled slightly, then disappeared down the hall.

"You get some sleep," Logan turned to his sister. "You're still healing. I'm going to go talk to Tommy, and then I'll be back up here."

"Okay," Kayla agreed, weariness in her green eyes, her skin still very pale. As she crawled into bed, Logan turned and headed out into the hall, jogging down the stairs and heading into the living room. Tommy was pacing restlessly in front of the couch where a pillow and blanket were waiting for him.

"You know, Tommy, you can't actually sleep standing up," Logan interrupted his former best friend's racing thoughts. "That's what the couch is for."

"Logan, if you think I can sleep right now, you're nuts," the boy said shakily.

"Tommy, come on," Logan said gently. "Just calm down and tell me what's wrong."

"What's wrong?" Tommy looked at him incredulously. "My father has Ben, Logan. There's a reason he told Deaton to tell me that he _and Ben_ were looking for me. That was a message. Ben's in trouble. I know he is."

"You're overreacting, Tommy," Logan shook his head. "He wouldn't hurt Ben."

"You know he would," Tommy was shaking visibly, and, in spite of everything that happened, Logan felt a twinge of sympathy. "If it would help him get what he wants, he would."

"Not without losing the respect of everyone he's in command of," Logan argued. "Ben has done nothing wrong in their eyes. He wasn't the one who backed down from killing us. He stopped because you stopped. They didn't flinch when he pulled a gun on you because you did something wrong. But Ben, as far as they know, has been the perfect soldier."

Tommy suddenly stopped, his eyes lighting up as if he'd had an idea. Then he reached out and grabbed Logan's arm, dragging him further away from the werewolf and the hunter in the kitchen.

"I need you to help me get my dad to take me back," Tommy told him urgently, his voice hushed.

"What?" Logan gaped at him. "Are you nuts? He just tried to kill you not twelve hours ago!"

"He wouldn't have killed me," Tommy shook his head. "If Kayla hadn't jumped in front of me, that bullet would have hit me low and towards the center of my body, avoiding all vital organs; it was a warning shot, a lesson. I would have been back on my feet in a couple weeks and completely back to normal in a month, maybe two."

"I can't let you go back to him, Tommy," the werewolf refused. "He'd kill you this time. After you helped us escape...you're dead to him, Tommy. I'm sorry, but it's true."

"He's not quite the monster everyone seems to think he is!" the boy grew defensive. "Yes, okay, sometimes, he is definitely a monster, but not all the time! Sometimes he's the nicest, most caring person I've ever met. There are times when he looks at me like I'm nothing—like earlier today—and then there are the times when he looks at me like nothing and no one could make him prouder. Believe it or not, he was my biggest supporter when you and Kayla turned. A couple years ago, in Wyoming, we were hunting a pack that was consciously killing people on the full moon. One of them got the drop on me and slashed me pretty badly. I was losing a lot of blood really fast. I thought I was going to die. The look of terror on his face...and he just kept holding me, telling me I was going to be fine. He's tough and he's mean and he's scary, but he loves me. But, unfortunately, it only works for me; he loves Ben, but if he messes up, there's no redemption in my father's eyes. If he has something my father wants, there's no way he'll just leave him alone. I have to go back to him, Logan. I have to make sure that he hasn't hurt Ben."

"Ben is fine, Tommy," Logan growled, frustrated.

"Then why hasn't he answered any of my calls?" Tommy challenged.

"Maybe he lost his phone," Logan offered. "Maybe he broke his phone in the fight. I can think of at least a hundred reasons why he wouldn't answer, and none of them have to do with your father. I'm not doing this, Tommy. I can't do this. I can't help you go back to him."

"Look, just hear me out," Tommy said quickly, knowing Logan was his best bet to get this done. "My dad is mad as hell right now, you're right, but that would change pretty quickly if he thought I'd been hurt."

Logan saw where this was going, and he took a small step back, horror on his face. "No," he refused. "No, no way."

"Logan, please, it won't be that bad," Tommy begged, desperation in his face and words.

"No!" Logan snapped quietly. "If your dad found out I hurt you I'd be a dead wolf, instead of a dead wolf walking."

"My dad doesn't have to know. I could tell him it was Riley. He'd never be able to catch him anyway; he's too good. He's always been three steps ahead of us. Look, my dad cares about me. He may not show it all the time, but he does, and he'd forgive me in an instant if I told the story I plan to tell and I had the injuries to back it up. It's going to work; trust me."

"You don't understand, Tommy," Logan fought to keep his voice down. "I have worked very, very hard to never, ever hurt a human being. I won't break my streak by hurting you. I can't..." Logan's voice caught, his throat getting tighter at the mere idea of attacking Tommy. That thought had been at least part of what drove him and Kayla so far from home. "I can't hurt you."

"If I go back to him without something to distract him from the fact that I helped you escape, I'm as good as dead," Tommy said evenly. "If he won't kill me himself, one of them will. This is the only way they'll take me back. If you don't do this, I'm either going to be killed or shunned."

"Or you could just not go, and stay here," desperation gleamed in Logan's eyes; more than anything, he didn't want to do what his friend was asking. "The pack can protect you. _I_ can protect you. We can get Ben back. Please, Tommy; don't make me do this..."

"Logan, I'm going back for Ben one way or another," Tommy was adamant. "So are you going to help me, or am I going to have to go alone?"

"Tommy..." Logan's brow was furrowed with distress.

"You know as well as I do that Ben is in trouble," Tommy snarled, keeping his voice low. "You can deny it all you want, but I know you. I can see it in your eyes; you're worried about him. You know that the pack won't be able to get Ben back without a lot of people getting hurt. Ben used to be your best friend, too; how can you stand here and tell me that I should leave him there to rot?"

"Stop," Logan said shortly, a wounded look in his eyes. "Of course I'm worried about Ben. Believe it or not, being a werewolf does not change whether or not you care about someone. I just think that there has to be a better way than having me beat you to a pulp. The very _idea _of doing that to you or Ben or my parents is part of the reason we ran so far away. You're still my friend, Tommy, whether that's true for you or not. Please, I'm begging you, don't ask me to do this..."

"Who else is going to?" Tommy challenged. "Scott? Never. Riley? I don't trust him or his pack not to kill me. Derek? I just met the guy, and until tonight my only encounter with him had been me pointing a gun in his face; I can't trust him with my life! You're the only one I can trust with this."

Logan was silent, his eyes still pleading, but Tommy stood his ground. The two boys just stared at each other for what felt like ages, until, finally, Logan let out a weary sigh, knowing that Tommy wouldn't let it go, and also knowing that he was right; if he didn't do this and Tommy went back to his father after helping them escape, he'd be dead meat.

"Fine," the werewolf agreed at last. "But we're going to have to tell Derek, Argent, and Riley."

"Not Scott?" Tommy seemed surprised. "Not Kayla?"

"He's not my alpha, Tommy," Logan reminded him. "And from what I've seen of him, he's never going to let us do this. And Kayla would kill us both just for thinking about doing this."

"Then why tell any of them?"

"Well, one, we're not going to blame Riley without him knowing about it, and plus he's going to help sell the story; two, Argent needs to know because he's the only one with a car readily available since we hid your car; and three, I'm almost a hundred percent sure that Derek has heard this entire conversation. At least, I definitely could have heard it from where he is, and if I saw us over here in the corner conspiring, I'd listen in."

"He's right," Derek spoke up from the kitchen. The two teenagers turned and saw Derek and Argent standing up from the kitchen table and walking towards them.

"So, are you going to help us?" Tommy demanded, folding his arms across his chest and trying to hide the fear in his eyes.

"I don't like this plan," Argent stated bluntly. "I think you're stupid for even suggesting it, Tommy."

For a moment, the young hunter looked discouraged. Then, Argent continued.

"But," he sighed, "I also know that you're right. Despite his flaws, Kyle does care about you. He can hurt you, sure, but if anyone else tried, he'd kill them. You and your mom were the only ones who could ever make him change his mind. So, while this is probably the stupidest and—" he paused, thinking for a moment. "Okay, one of the stupidest and most dangerous plans I have ever heard of, I'll help, but only because I feel like if I don't, one—or both—of you is going to end up dead."

Tommy smiled slightly, gratitude in his expression, and then turned to Derek.

"And what about you?" he asked slowly. "Are you going to help?"

"I don't like keeping things from Scott," Derek stated with a shrug. "And I think this is an incredibly stupid plan."

"But are you going to help?" Tommy pressed.

"It'd be nice to have a few friendly faces when I do this," Logan spoke up. "I was thinking we'd head out and get Riley first, and I'm not exactly on good terms with him—better than before, but still not good—so I'd really appreciate the support."

"See, but I don't support this," Derek argued. "This is a stupid plan, a _terrible_ plan. One that could get your buddy, here, killed."

"You think I don't know that?" Logan's voice resonated with anguish. "I need someone there that I can trust to make sure that doesn't happen. Normally, that would be Kayla, but there's no way in Hell I'm telling Kayla about this, so that responsibility falls to you."

"I won't lie to Scott," Derek said firmly, causing Logan to look defeated. "But," he continued, igniting a spark of hope in the young wolf's eyes, "honestly, it's a plan I probably would have thought of myself, given the same circumstances. So, I'll help, but I won't lie to Scott."

"Thank you," Logan said sincerely, giving him a small smile. Derek gave a half smile in return.

"Alright," Tommy sighed. "Let's do this before I lose my nerve."

* * *

_**Another incredibly long chapter! YAY INCREDIBLY LONG CHAPTERS! I hope you guys all enjoyed this one, and I hope you're all excited for tonight's new episode. I thought I'd get this up before it starts; I'm gearing up here, myself. So excited. Anyway, thanks for reading, and don't forget to review! ~Alyssa**_


	16. Bleeding Out

Logan stumbled into the Beacon Hills hospital, one arm wrapped around Tommy's slashed-up midsection while he gripped his wrist with his free hand to keep his friend's arm around his shoulders. Riley followed in behind them as Logan struggled to stop his knees from shaking.

"Help!" the teenage werewolf called, getting the attention of several nurses and doctors. One nurse with curly black hair tied up in a ponytail ran over to them as some others got a gurney.

"What happened?" the woman asked as the others came and took Tommy from him, gently laying him down on the gurney. Tommy was barely conscious and losing a lot of blood, so much so that Logan was starting to doubt Derek's assurance that the wounds wouldn't kill him.

"I..." Logan's voice shook just as badly as his body, and tears were shining in his eyes as he looked at Tommy's face. The boy's jaw was swollen and there was a bruise on his forehead. Blood was dripping from his nose, and his lip was split. Riley stepped up beside the young werewolf and looked at him expectantly.

"I don't know," Logan choked out finally. "I just...I-I found him like that. Is he...he's not going to die, is he?"

"Not if we can help it," the woman with the curly hair said gently as the other nurses wheeled Tommy away. "What's your name, Sweetie?"

Riley nudged Logan's side warningly, playing his part well. Logan glanced at him quickly, then turned back to the nurse.

"It's...it's not important..." Logan stammered. "His...his name is Tommy. Tommy Ryker. Please, you have to help him..."

"We will," the woman promised. "Why don't you stay here and I'll get you a few forms to fill out so we can know how to help your friend, okay?"

Logan didn't answer as she turned and walked over to the nurses' station. From there, Melissa McCall watched as Riley turned to Logan.

"Logan, it's time to go," the alpha said quietly, urgently.

"I can't leave," Logan refused, shaking his head, still looking where Tommy had disappeared. "I can't leave...I have to stay, I have to make sure he's okay..."

"Listen to me, Logan," Riley snapped, grabbing the boy's shoulder. Logan quickly knocked his hand away, his eyes flaring yellow as he turned to the alpha, just as they'd rehearsed.

"Don't touch me," Logan snarled as Melissa took a step back in shock. "This is your fault. You did that to him."

"Logan, we have to go," Riley growled. He glanced over his shoulder at the security camera mounted to the corner. Logan followed his gaze and took a deep breath to calm himself, blinking his eyes back to normal.

"I did what you wanted," Riley hissed. "I stopped before I killed him, and I brought him here. Now it's time for you to hold up your end of the deal."

Logan hesitated, his eyes sad and pleading, tears running down his face. Then the young werewolf wiped his eyes with the back of his wrist and nodded.

"Okay," he agreed finally, putting on a show for the camera and anyone Kyle Ryker may talk to when he arrived. "Let's go."

With this, the two wolves left the hospital, leaving Melissa McCall staring after them in confusion. After a moment or two, she simply grabbed the phone on the desk and called her son, hoping he'd be able to shed some light on the situation.

Outside, Logan and Riley had returned to Riley's car in the alley behind the hospital and were rummaging through the trunk. Riley tossed the young omega a towel to clean off his hands with.

"Take that shirt off," the alpha ordered, pulling a spare from a bag in the back of the trunk, "and put that one on."

Wordlessly, Logan wiped the fresh blood off his hands, paying special attention to his fingernails, his whole body shaking, before pulling his bloody shirt over his head and pulling on the new one.

"Hey," Logan slowly looked up and met the alpha's eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong. Tommy asked you to do this. He's going to be fine. I promise. Derek was right; none of those wounds would kill him."

"Maybe not, but the blood loss might," Logan argued guiltily. "I never should have agreed to this. I should have just told Tommy to let us handle it. Hell, I should have tied him up and locked him in the bathroom before I ever agreed to this. He was losing blood way too fast. I knew I shouldn't have done this...God why did I ever agree to this...?"

"Logan, stop blaming yourself," Riley scolded. "This was the best way to get to Ben. I know it, you know it, Derek and Argent know it, and most of all Tommy knows it."

"You don't understand, Riley, I..." Logan looked down, a wounded look on his face. "I swore I'd never hurt anyone because of what you did to us. And I just broke that promise. If I was able to do that to him now, what am I going to do in three days when the full moon comes?"

"Logan, you and Kayla are some of the most in-control werewolves I've seen in a long time," Riley told him. "I told you I was keeping an eye on you. Your first full moon, I was there. I watched Kayla lose her mind within a few hours, but you held it together long enough to get her locked up. But you didn't lock yourself up in time. I watched you run off and try to attack that couple who were camping by the river. I was about to stop you when the most amazing thing happened. You stopped yourself."

"I just tore my friend apart!" Logan snapped. "He was barely breathing! And if you and Derek hadn't stopped me I would have killed him!"

"No, you wouldn't have," Riley shook his head. "You might think that, but that's just the full moon starting to get you. You never would have killed him, Logan. You're too good."

Logan didn't say anything, shame burning in his eyes as he scrubbed at his skin with the towel, trying to get every last trace of blood off of him. Riley sighed and looked at him sympathetically.

"Come on," the alpha said gently. "Let's get you back before Kayla even realizes you're gone. And you need some serious sleep."

Logan just nodded and wordlessly walked around to the passenger door, climbing inside. In minutes, they were off.

* * *

_**Hey guys! Sorry this took so long. Life's been crazy. I'm currently on vacation, fishing with my family (day 1, caught a rock bass by the face!), so I haven't had much time to write. I probably won't have a new chapter up for a little while, what with the college preparations and all, but I will do my best, so please be patient. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and don't forget to review!**_


	17. That's My Story and I'm Sticking To It

Kyle Ryker leaned against the wall outside the room in which Ben was being interrogated. The boy continued to insist that he didn't know where Tommy had taken the twins, but Ryker didn't believe him, and one way or another, he was going to find out where they went. He didn't care how long it took. With a sigh, the hunter pulled out his phone and turned it on. He was surprised when he saw that he had a new voicemail waiting for him. Ryker quickly accessed the message, then brought the phone up to his ear to listen to it.

"Dad," Ryker's breath caught in his throat when he heard his son's voice, and, more importantly, how quiet and scratchy it was, as if he were drugged. "Dad...I screwed up...I'm so sorry; I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have trusted them. Dad, they...I'm hurt pretty bad. I'm at the hospital. Please, Dad, I'm sorry, just...just come get me...please..."

"End of new messages."

Ryker's breaths were shaky as he lowered his phone and hung up. Without even telling anyone where he was going, he started jogging for his car outside, ignoring calls from his colleagues asking what was going on. Within twenty minutes, he'd arrived at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital and was rushing through the doors. He stopped a nurse as she walked past, a pretty woman with curly black hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"Excuse me," he said quickly. "I just got a call from my son saying he was admitted here; can you tell me what room he's in?"

"Um, sure," the woman nodded. "What's his name?"

"Tommy," Kyle told her breathlessly. "Tommy Ryker."

"Oh," the woman smiled, "I was there when he was admitted. Room two-thirty-seven."

"Thanks," Ryker said graciously, making a mental note to talk to her later, as he ran past her, headed for the stairs. He took the steps two at a time until he made it to the second floor, and he started looking around for number two-thirty-seven. It wasn't long before he found it. The hunter quickly pushed the door open, and froze when he saw his son.

Tommy turned to look at his father, his face cut and bruised. A large square of gauze was peeking out from under the hospital gown the boy wore, and there were hand-shaped bruises on his upper and forearms, as well as on his left wrist. There was a blood bag hanging on the metal stand beside the bed, as well as a bag of clear liquid, and there were needles sticking into the back of his hand as the blood replenished what the boy had lost and what was probably morphine dulled the pain and his senses.

"Dad," Tommy smiled drowsily. "I wasn't sure you'd come."

"Of course I came," Ryker said incredulously, walking over to his son's bedside, grabbing a chair and pulling it over, and giving his son a gentle smile as he sat down. "Who did this to you? Logan? Kayla?"

"No," Tommy shook his head. "No, it wasn't them, I swear."

"Then who was it?" Ryker challenged. "What happened?"

"I never should have trusted them," Tommy said quietly, his mind clouded by the drugs flowing into his veins. "I'm sorry, Dad, I...I just couldn't kill her...I saw her face, and I...I was stupid, and I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay," Ryker promised gently, smoothing his son's hair back just as he used to do when Tommy was a child, frightened by a nightmare or brought down by some illness. "Just tell me what happened."

"I was...after I got Kayla out, I followed Logan, and we went to this vet's clinic..." Tommy explained, still maintaining his story even in his drug-induced haze. "I went outside to get some air, and someone hit me over the head. Next thing I know, I'm duct taped to a chair and Riley's pack is all around me. Riley said that if you came after him, he wanted leverage."

"And what made Riley think we'd ever catch up with him?" Ryker asked in confusion. "We've never really done it before."

"A lot of his pack was hurt," Tommy told him, his eyes falling closed as fatigue started to truly settle in; they'd only just hooked him up to the morphine. "He couldn't up and leave right away. And he wanted Logan and Kayla."

"Okay," Ryker accepted his answer without pressing the issue, "what changed?"

"Logan showed up," Tommy continued drowsily. "He said that you were at the clinic looking for me. He...he tried to convince Riley to let me go...But Riley said that if he was going to give me back, I'd have to be dead. He said that after what you did to his little brother, it was only fair, and then he just...attacked me. Logan got him to stop before he killed me because he promised that he and Kayla would join his pack, and...I don't know, I think I blacked out, because the next thing I know, Logan's taking me out of the back seat and bringing me into the hospital. I called you as soon as they finished stitching me up."

"I'm so sorry, Tommy," Ryker said sincerely, his brow furrowed with worry. He kept studying his son's face, the cuts and bruises on his skin, something like guilt in his eyes. "I should have protected you."

"I shouldn't have helped them," Tommy shook his head. "Now, whatever parts of Logan and Kayla were still in there have to spend the rest of their lives with Riley."

"You shouldn't blame yourself, Tommy," Ryker soothed. "You loved her, and that thing had her face. You think it was easy putting your mother down after she got bit? Nothing has ever hurt me more. What happened to you was not your fault, and those wolves made their choice. I'm glad they chose what they did and saved you, and for that, I promise that we won't make them stay with Riley for much longer. But none of this was your fault. Understand?"

Tommy hesitated, then nodded sleepily.

"Listen, Tommy, about before...what I said..." Ryker's voice was heavy with guilt. "I didn't mean it...I'm sorry. I was frustrated and angry and I shouldn't have said that to you. To think that those could have been the last words I ever said to you, I...I'm so sorry...I promise, I'm going to change this time. I swear to you, I'm going to change."

"Dad," Tommy sighed wearily. "I love you, and I know you love me, and I know you didn't mean what you said, but please don't lie to me. You are who you are, and you can't change that."

"I can for you, kiddo," Ryker gave a slight half smile. "I can for you."

"Dad..." Tommy clearly didn't believe him.

"Look, I'm not saying I'm going to become a saint or anything," Ryker said quietly, sitting back in his chair. "But I swear to you, I'm going to be better to you."

Still, Tommy didn't believe him, but he gave a smile and nodded anyway, knowing that if he frustrated his father his plan could fall apart.

"I'm going to go talk to the doctors," Ryker said after a moment. "You get some rest, okay?"

"Okay," Tommy agreed. Just as Ryker was about to leave, the boy spoke again, "Dad..."

Ryker looked at him expectantly, his eyes gentle for the first time in a long time.

"I heard Logan say something about Ben when he came to try and get Riley to let me go," the boy told him. "Is he okay?"

Of course Tommy was almost a hundred percent sure of the answer already, but he wanted to see how his father would react. To his slight horror, Ryker didn't even flinch, and even smiled when he replied.

"Ben is fine, Tommy," the man said evenly, with no indication that he could be lying. But Tommy knew his father well, and he knew that it was when it seemed impossible for him to be lying that his words could not be farther from the truth. "Get some sleep."

* * *

**_I'm hoooooo-oooooome! Thanks for being patient, guys. The fishing was great. Vacation was awesome. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and don't forget to review! Love you guys! ~Alyssa_**


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